Scientific Method Redux
by CanonAntithesis
Summary: Rewrite of the 4th season episode, Scientific Method, where aliens conduct medical experiments on members of the crew. This time with a naughty Janeway/Paris slant.
1. Chapter 1

**Scientific Method Redux**

_**A Star Trek: Voyager fanfiction**_

**by**

**CanonAntithesis**

Summary: A Paris/Janeway rewrite of the 4th season episode, Scientific Method.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This fanfiction is based upon the UPN television series _Star Trek: Voyager_. All characters and situations other than my own are the sole property of Paramount.

**Chapter 1**

_What's wrong with me?_ Kathryn Janeway wiped a shaky hand across her brow. There must be something wrong with the environmental controls. _Environmental controls? That's a good one, Kathryn. Be honest with yourself. It's not that kind of **heat** you're feeling._ She uncrossed and recrossed her legs … again, trying for all she was worth to look like the dignified starship captain she had always presented to her crew. _And for God's sake, Kathryn, stop staring at your chief pilot._

She tried switching her legs around again. _Well, that certainly didn't help. If anything, that inadequate friction only exacerbated the problem._ She wiped her hand over her upper lip. It was sweaty too. This was too much. To her, sweaty upper lips were always a sign of older, out-of-shape women on the edge of menopause. And judging by the other things that were going on with her body at this moment, menopause was definitely the wrong diagnosis. Her eyes floated back to Tom Paris manning the helm. _She had never noticed before how his blonde hair curled up at the base of his neck. _One part of her mind, the more logical, noted that he needed a haircut. The other part, the one that seemed to be ruling the day, thought how wonderful it would feel to run her fingers through those precious curls and then wrap her hand around the nape of his neck, pull his head down to her level, and capture his lips in a smoldering kiss...

To distract herself from these decidedly uncaptain-like thoughts, Janeway tried to refocus on the PADD in her hand. It was another in a long line of excruciatingly detailed reports of Seven's. However, even the monotony of reading about the detailed step-by-boring-step instructions of how to calibrate stellar cartography instrumentation, couldn't distract her. Even the addition of first year Calculus equations, G_ood Lord, was that a math proof?_ … didn't help. Her mind still kept drifting to that damn handsome man sitting right in front of her.

Hearing a groan, Janeway was at first afraid it had been her, but quickly realized the noise came from her First Officer's seat. Chakotay was shifting uncomfortably in his chair and she had the fleeting thought that this might be some sort of alien virus affecting her entire bridge crew, turning them all into sex fiends. She quickly did a visual survey of the bridge and everyone else seemed to be acting normally. Although she did notice that Tom's hands had stopped their delicate ballet across the navigation panel. Chakotay permanently squelched her theory when he apologized to her.

"Sorry, Captain. I woke up with the worst crick in my back. I can't seem to find a comfortable position."

_It was a silly idea anyway - like something out of a bad holonovel. _Janeway nodded, but said nothing. She couldn't seem to get past the "comfortable position" comment that Chakotay made. _Oh, she could definitely think of some comfortable positions she could get in and most of them seemed to involve being under the straining, muscular body of her chief pilot._

Her eyes were drawn back to the view screen. At least that's where she told herself she was looking. She watched as Paris' hands flew effortlessly across the control panel. _Long, elegantly tapered fingers...Oh, how she imagined those fingers could …_

Apparently, Chakotay wasn't finished with his malaise. He rolled his left shoulder awkwardly and groaned again. "I think I might have a touch of bursitis in my shoulder too."

At this statement, Lieutenant Paris surprised everyone by spinning around in his chair and facing his commanding officers. "Bursitis? Wow, Commander, I think my grandfather had bur-"

His voice faded off when he noticed how Captain Janeway was staring directly at him. At first he thought she was about to reprimand him for his outburst, but he quickly realized he was mistaken when he saw the blatantly lustful look in her eyes. Their eyes locked and all other activity on the bridge seemed to come to a halt.

Janeway broke the moment by springing to her feet, barely acknowledging Chakotay's look of surprise, as she passed by him. She strode directly to the turbo-lift, throwing a command over her shoulder, but not looking back. "You have the bridge, Mr. Chakotay. I'll be in my quarters." ..._taking a cold shower._

**\***/**

Paris followed her with his eyes as the Captain almost ran across the bridge and entered the turbo-lift. She spun around as the doors began to close and she once again locked eyes with his. Tom watched with rapt attention as she ran a shaking hand over her own breast, pausing to circle around the nipple through the thick material of her uniform. Her eyes were locked on his. The doors closed.

_Shit! _Paris quickly looked around the bridge to see if anyone else had seen her little show. Chakotay was again groaning and complaining to no one in particular. Everyone else was busy at their positions, scattered around the bridge, doing their jobs. Relieved, Tom swung back around to try and concentrate on his job and to hide the rather obvious erection he now sported. He had been having decidedly wicked thoughts about his commanding officer during his entire shift and now he knew it was mutual. Captain Janeway had actually come on to him.

_Damn, I can't concentrate._ "Chakotay, I just remembered I was supposed to report to the Doctor half-an-hour ago to help him with some computer diagnostics."

"What?", Chakotay asked distractedly as he stared at a clump of hair in his hand. He looked up, but seemed to squint somewhat, as if he was having problems bringing Paris into focus. "Oh sure, Tom. Go on."

**\***/**

Kathryn Janeway was mortified. _What in the Delta Quadrant has caused her to touch herself while the turbo-lift doors were still open? _Of course, she knew the answer. The answer was Tom Paris. Tom Paris who she couldn't seem to get out of her mind and into her bed. _Stop it, Kathryn!_

She had stripped off her clothes as soon as she had entered her quarters and was now trying, unsuccessfully to relieve this sexual pressure she had been feeling all day. Nothing was working. Her tried and true fingers weren't working and they had been doing the job adequately for the last three and a half years. She even tried replicating a dildo, vibrating no less, and still nothing, but sore, reddened flesh.

Her door chime rang. _Now was definitely not the time for visitors._ Quickly, she pulled on her pink silk robe and headed to the door.

"Computer, who is outside Captain Janeway's quarters?"

The monotone female voice replied, "Lieutenant Thomas Eu-"

"Enter!" Janeway rushed to the door and pulled Paris in as soon as it opened wide enough.

TBC

**Author's Notes: Voyager is my absolute favorite series of all-time and I love Janeway paired with any male except Nelix. This is my first time writing a Voyager fanfic, so if you could take the time to leave a review, I would greatly appreciate it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Scientific Method Redux**

_**A Star Trek: Voyager fanfiction**_

**by**

**CanonAntithesis**

Summary: A Paris/Janeway rewrite of the 4th season episode, Scientific Method.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This fanfiction is based upon the UPN television series _Star Trek: Voyager_. All characters and situations other than my own are the sole property of Paramount.

**Chapter 2**

This had to be absolutely the weirdest day he had ever experienced and that was saying a lot considering some of the things they had seen since entering the Delta Quadrant. Therefore, Tom Paris shouldn't have been so surprised to find himself, less than five minutes after entering her cabin, stark naked and sinking himself into the very willing body of his equally naked commanding officer, Captain Kathryn Janeway.

_**Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. **_

Just thinking her full title should have been enough to cause him to go limp, but instead it seemed to have the opposite effect. He had had dreams of engaging in this very act with her before. Hell, every male and half the females on board had had lustful thoughts about Kathryn Janeway. And until this moment, that's just what they were, thoughts. Tom never thought he would find himself with her … _in_ her … _deep, deep within_ her. And God, was she sexy. Whoever designed the female Star Fleet uniform should be blasted out a photon torpedo tube. _Who would have ever guessed she had such a large rack? Oh, and her voice... _The same voice that had told the Borg where to stick it was now moaning his name and urging him to go faster in that incredible sexy, raspy voice. Or how about how her knees where bent up so that they fell on either side of her head? _Nope, that didn't hurt at all._ In fact, it put her in the most perfectly fuckable angle possible. She felt like she had been made just for him and he had been made for the sole purpose of pleasuring this incredibly beautiful woman.

"I-I'm not going to last much longer", Tom panted out between strokes.

"Go on; I'm good. Don't stop, please don't stop." Her voice was an odd mixture of pleading and seductiveness. "In fact, go faster … please. Yes, that's it. Harder!"

Paris managed to pump into her three more times before both of them tumbled over together into orgasmic bliss. Janeway slowly straightened up her legs and Tom collapsed onto her, completely sated and completely exhausted. He felt like he could have stayed that way forever. That is until he felt her suddenly stiffen under him.

Her voice was still raspy, but the seductiveness had left it. "Mr. Paris" was all she said. That was all she needed to say. It was over.

Remorse flooded into his very DNA and he jumped off her instantly. "Oh my God, Captain. I am so sorry. I'm so very sorry."

Without another word, he ran from her bedroom, pulled on his clothes, and fled her quarters.

**\***/**

Tom entered the bridge for his morning shift without stopping to chat with his best friend, Harry Kim, and slid quietly into his seat. The command chair was currently occupied by a Lieutenant who normally worked Gamma shift and with whom Tom had only a brief acquaintance. He knew Captain Janeway was scheduled to work today. He had checked before leaving his quarters. It was really surprising to find her missing. She was _never_ late.

_Just one more thing to add to your feelings of guilt, Tom, old buddy. _

However, as horrible as he felt about what he did yesterday, since he woke up, that guilt was slowly starting to be replaced by the same urgency and need that brought on the act which caused the guilt in the first place. In other words, he was horny … again. But not just horny in the general sense of the word; he was horny for her, his captain, Kathryn Janeway.

He was a normal guy, so it wasn't unusual to wake up with a boner which, if necessary, he would take care of himself in the shower. The unusual part about this morning's _problem _was that he couldn't resolve it. In other words, he couldn't bring himself off. That had never happened to him since he had discover this most pleasurable pastime in his early teens. Now all he had was a raging case of blue balls tinged with a side of remorse.

_Focus on the task at hand, ignore your feelings about the Captain, ignore your throbbing erection, just do your job. Ha! Like that would happen._

Thirty minutes later and Tom couldn't have said which diagnostics he had run, which he had left to do, or what any of the results were. Sighing, he looked up to find Harry waving his hand in front of him to get his attention.

"Kim to Paris. Hello? Are you in there?" He mimicked knocked in the air as if it were a door.

Tom blinked and slowly looked up at him. "Har? Sorry man, I must be in some other quadrant."

"I'll say", Harry said as he leaned in closer to Tom. "I can see what tests you're running from my station and you've run the same navigational self-diagnostic three times in the last twenty minutes."

Tom looked at his panel to verify what Harry just told him. "Damn. Thanks, Harry. I, uh, didn't get much sleep last night."

"Hot date?", Harry said with a wink and a lascivious smile, or as lascivious as the naïve Ensign could manage.

"What?", Tom squeaked in a high falsetto. "Of course, not. Why would think this had anything to do with a woman? Absolutely, not. No way. Not me."

Harry was taken aback by his normally laid-back friend's reaction. "Sorry, Tom. I don't know what I was thinking", he added sarcastically.

_My, my... Harry Kim certainly had grown up in the last three and a half years. During their first year out here, he wouldn't barely even talk to me during a duty shift and here he is initiating the small talk. I also need to watch myself around him now. You could put anything past Newbie Harry, but there was something about dying and replacing yourself that seasoned a guy._

"Shouldn't you be doing your job or something, Harry?" Tom sat up straight in his seat, groaned a little at the awkward pressure this place on his groin and tried his best to look professional.

"Nah, I'm running a two hour diagnostic at my station in preparation for studying the binary pulsar. Nothing to do, but sit back and wait for it to finish. Besides, it's dead around here today. Chakotay didn't even show to duty. I heard he was in sickbay. And the Captain..."

Tom perked up at mention of Janeway, but before Harry could finish, he heard an amplified, tinny voice say, "Janeway to Paris."

Without thought he responded, "Paris here, Captain."

"Report to my ready room, Mr. Paris … please."

_Shit, she wasn't late. All this time, she had been hiding out in her ready room._

"Aye, aye, Captain. I'll be right there." His spirits picked up. _Maybe this was a booby call … no wait, that's not right. What was that twentieth century slang term? Oh, yeah. A __**booty**__ call. That's it. One could only hope. _

As an afterthought, Tom grabbed a PADD off his workstation to help hide his rather prominent … predicament and after handing off this station to his sub, headed to the Captain's ready room. _God, am I ready!_

**\***/**

All hopes of a booty call were immediately dashed as soon as the doors slid shut behind him. Actually, his hopes were mangled, ripped into tiny shreds, and then stomped on by big black boots like the one's currently on the feet of Voyager's Security Chief. Captain Janeway was standing, facing her panoramic viewport, her arms firmly clasped behind her back. However sitting on her sofa, as relaxed as a Vulcan could ever look, was newly promoted, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. Tuvok nodded to him and Tom nervously nodded back.

The only advantage to having Tuvok in the room was that his erection actually did soften up a bit, but not entirely.

Janeway wasted no time on pleasantries.

"I've already informed Tuvok about the incident yesterday."

_Oh, fuck! I'm going to be thrown in the brig for the rest of the voyage home._

She clasped her hands together more tightly and continued, "Therefore, I am placing myself under house arrest, pending proceedings for court-martial."

"What?", Tom exclaimed. "But why?"

She continued to face the window, but stiffened noticibly. "I … sexually assaulted you, Mr. Paris. My behavior was abhorrent … and illegal."

Tom strode across the room in three strides, stopping just behind her. "No you didn't! I was a willing participant, more than willing."

**\***/**

_God, this was too hard._ She thought if she didn't look at him, if she only stared out the viewport, she would be fine. Janeway had just spent an incredibly difficult half hour explaining to Tuvok each and every infraction of the regulations she had violated with Tom Paris without going into any salacious details.

After Tom left her quarters, actually, after he ran away from her quarters, last evening, she felt such contrition that it almost hinged on grief. How could she have had sexual intercourse with Tom Paris?

_Good grief, Kathryn, stop quibbling over the vernacular. You fucked him - plain and simple. _

And while she had to admit, it was, hands down, the best damn fuck she'd had in years.

_Correct that, Kathryn! It was the only damn fuck you've had in years. So it was the best damn fuck she'd had, period. _

It was hard and fast, just the way she liked it. So many of her lovers (the few she'd had) had treated her like a wilting blossom, afraid they would hurt her. _Not Tom Paris. Hell, no!_ He'd taken as much as she'd given and then some.

She didn't understand what was going on with her. Kathryn Janeway did not randomly attack members of her senior staff for her own sexual gratification. Thinking through this logically just wasn't working, especially when he was in the same room with her. She couldn't concentrate. She couldn't focus on anything but him and how it would feel to...

_Stop it, Kathryn! Don't go there, not again, and certainly not here._

However the instant he entered the room, she could sense a change in the air. It was as if she could actually smell him. Then, he was right behind. She didn't need to see his reflection in the viewport, she could feel him.

Tuvok chose that opportune moment to clear his throat and stand. "If I may, Captain?"

She nodded her ascent and he continued. "If this is, indeed, a consensual sexual relationship then, no criminal activities have occurred."

"Absolutely!", Tom put in. "It was completely consensual … very, very consensual might I add."

Janeway turned toward Tom and looked like she wanted to protest, but Tuvok continued with this exposition. "Starfleet regulations regarding fraternization are remarkably non-uniform. That stated, if a large rank difference exists between the two parties, then it is generally expected that one will (sooner, rather than later) request a transfer to another duty station. Due to our unique circumstances, this option isn't possible. In these cases, the relationship is subject to the authority of the Commanding Officer."

Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose and moved so that her desk chair was between her and Paris. Tom, for his part seemed to sway visibly as if he was being as affected by her as she by him.

"Tuvok", she implored. "We...", she vaguely waved her hand between herself and Tom, "don't have a relationship. It was a one-off." _Maybe..._ "And even if we did have a … relationship, I **am** the Commanding Officer. How can I set policy just for me and my circumstances?"

"Point taken, Captain. However, this mission will take the better part of our lives. How can you deny yourself or any crewmember a chance for interpersonal gratification? There is a policy covering this as well. Starfleet states that if a serious effort is made by both parties to keep the relationship clandestine, and the relationship does not affect their professional lives, it would be improper for a Commanding Officer to make an accusation based on suspicion. Therefore, the relationship is generally allowed to continue. An ancient Terran expression applies, 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'."

In spite of herself, Janeway had to chuckle at this. "You mean I shouldn't tell myself?"

Before further discussion could be made, the Doctor's voice echoed through the room.

"Will Captain Janeway and Lt. Paris please report to sickbay as soon as possible? The Doctor out." He sounded quite harried.

"We'll continue this discussion later, Tuvok." _When I can think more clearly, like when He isn't in the same room with me. Speaking of which..._ "Mr. Paris", she lifted her chin in his direction, "care to join me?"

"Aye, aye, Captain", Paris responded promptly as if they hadn't just spend the last twenty minutes discussing relationships, non-relationships, Starfleet fraternization policies … and during all of this, he had the most God-awful hard-on ever.

**\***/**

"Mr. Tuvok, you have the bridge", Janeway commanded as she and Paris entered the turbo-lift.

They appeared the epitome of Starfleet professionalism as the lift doors slid closed.

"Tom", Janeway said an nanosecond later. "I have to know something."

"Yes, Captain?"

They both stared directly forward, eyes firmly fixed on the turbo-lift doors.

She inhaled deeply and then braced her hand on the wall as if she was dizzy.

"Captain?", Tom asked with concern as he turned toward her.

She raised her other hand to stop him. "Don't. Please stay over there."

Tom backed away and she continued nervously. "I have to know if what you said in my ready room was true. Was it really consensual? I-I mean ..."

She turned to face him directly and Tom realized that this was the first time he had had the chance to study her face all day. She looked tired. And something else, she looked … scared, like the answer to this question was of the utmost importance to her.

She squeezed her eyes tightly closed for a second before starting again. "I mean did I push you into anything?"

"What?", Tom snapped. "Of course not. What I said in there was true. Captain... May I call you Kathryn?"

She nodded eagerly. It had been so long since she had heard anyone other than Chakotay say her given name. "Of course, especially after..." She trailed off, but her tired eyes continued watching him closely.

"Kathryn, why do you think I came to your quarters? I've never felt … how do I say this? I've never felt such a need for anyone ever before. I can't eat; I can't sleep."

"Oh my, yes", she agreed wholeheartedly. "It's overwhelming, all consuming. I think about you all the time. The only time I've felt even the least bit sane the last two days was after we..."

"I'm feeling that way right now. I want you." He took a step closer to her. She didn't back away, but then again, there wasn't really anywhere to go inside a turbo-lift. "I mean right here, right now." He took another step closer.

He nearly cried out when she placed her hand on his chest to stop him. He remembered very clearly how she had made that very same gesture to protect him from Chakotay back when they had first been thrown into this damn quadrant. The heat from her hand was nearly overwhelming and it was all he could do not to close the distance between them. She was going to stop him. She was his captain and even though it would kill him, he knew he would obey her.

Her mouth lifted in that quirky half-smile which was all Janeway. "Computer, halt turbo-lift and initiate program Janeway-Two-Beta-Pi.."

**TBC**

Author's Notes:

Hope you like it and if you do, please review and let me know.

Other things may not happen exactly as they did in the episode, so please don't point out that A happened before B or anything like that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Scientific Method Redux**

_**A Star Trek: Voyager fanfiction**_

**by**

**CanonAntithesis**

Summary: A Paris/Janeway rewrite of the 4th season episode, Scientific Method.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This fanfiction is based upon the UPN television series _Star Trek: Voyager_. All characters and situations other than my own are the sole property of Paramount.

_**Previously...**_

"_Computer, halt turbo-lift and initiate program Janeway-Two-Beta-Pi."_

**Chapter 3**

Neither one was sure who moved first, just that their lips crashed together hungrily with a searing, almost painful intensity.

Kathryn's teeth pulled at Tom's lips, wanting and needing more than she was getting. He placed his leg between hers and she eagerly ground herself onto his thigh, relishing the friction against her cloth-covered heated core.

Tom's tongue was wet and heavy as it pushed into her mouth. He tasted her coffee and it was heavenly. He grabbed hold of her hips to haul her closer to him so that she could feel the effect she had on him. His erection was hard and almost painful as pressed between them.

She yanked her mouth away from his to suck in some much needed oxygen into her deprived lungs. Instead of stopping, Tom's lips traveled down the side of her neck, nipping and sucking down to her collarbone. He desperately needed a closer connection.

"Fuck." He exhaled against her neck and there was something in the raspy shakiness of his voice that sent a searing heat shooting through her like a meteor.

Pulling slightly away from him, Kathryn opened the clasp of his uniform pants and pulled them down to his knees. To her surprise, his cock sprang out at full attention, throbbing and purple with need.

She glanced up at him and quirked her eyebrow. "Why Mr. Paris, no underwear? I do believe that's against regulations."

Tom was in no mood for light banter. "Stand up and turn around", he ordered.

The Captain stared at him incredulously, but Kathryn made the final decision and turned around without comment, anxiously awaiting his next instruction. She was rocking on the balls of her feet with anticipation.

_My, it felt liberating to give up control._

Kathryn felt his hot breath on her neck as he stepped up behind her. "I'm going to fuck you so hard I'm going to make you scream." She tilted her neck to the side to give him better access. Tom slowly licked the column of her neck and she closed her eyes at the erotic feel of his tongue on her sensitive flesh. "You'll be begging me to never stop."

"Please, I can't wait any longer", she moaned.

Her eyes flew open as he grabbed onto the waistband of her trousers and jerked them down past her hips. They landed in an undignified heap around her ankles, revealing a striking pair of delicate lace panties. Tom paused for a moment to admire the firm roundness of her ass.

_He wanted her … now._

"Oh!", escaped her lips as he roughly took hold of the nearly transparent panties, ripped them apart and threw them into a corner of the lift.

"Hold on to something."

She spread her legs as wide as her fallen trousers would allow. Then, she braced her arms on a padded section of the turbo-lift wall. Stepping forward, Tom took his cock in one hand and used his other to check if she was ready for him. He only needed to touch the outside of her labia to feel that she was dripping wet … and all for him. However, before he could do anything else, Janeway surprised him by reaching under between her legs, grabbing firmly onto his member and guiding him into her.

_Thank goodness I'm still wearing my boots. He's so tall, I 'd have to stand on my tiptoes if I were my in bare feet._

They both sighed in relief and took a few seconds to savor the sensation before this stationary position became too much. Holding tightly onto her hips, he gave her a few shallow, slow thrusts. She was so tiny, Tom didn't want to take the chance of hurting her.

"More", Kathryn told him. "I need it deeper." She pushed her ass back against him to show him what she wanted, thereby impaling herself on his long penis.

She had never had anyone (or anything) penetrate her so deeply. They quickly found a rhythm, slamming together with a wet, slapping noise. Kathryn felt indescribably wonderful and full. Every thrust hit against that special spot deep within her.

_Plus, there was something incredibly hot and sordid about still having most of my clothes on when I'm being pounded into by my ship's chief pilot._

"I can't last much longer", Tom grunted into her the shell of her ear. "Touch yourself, Kathryn. I want you to make yourself cum."

Janeway froze. She was no prude and she had masturbated plenty of times in her life, the majority of which occurred in this damn quadrant. However, she had never touched herself _there_ in front of a lover.

Tom stopped moving, but she could tell it was taxing all his reserves to do so. "Kathryn, I want you to cum with me and I can tell you aren't ready yet. Please, do this … for both of us."

_He could tell._

She had faked enough orgasms in her day to know that a man could never tell anything about what was happening with a woman's body. A couple of moans here, a Kegel exercise there, and most men were happy.

_But Tom Paris could tell._

And he was right; she was definitely getting there, but she wasn't standing on the edge of the precipice with him just yet.

Making her decision, Kathryn moved her right hand off the wall and slowly reached down between her legs. She first found his testicles, sparsely covered in wiry hair; they were tight and full and she knew to be extremely gentle with them. Then, she slid her hand up the muscle that ran between his sacs and felt where his penis was fitted snugly inside her. She was so wet that her fluids had saturated the pubic hair where they were fused together. Without pausing, the prim and proper Captain Janeway wet her middle finger with her own juices and started stroking herself.

Tom could tell the instant she touched herself. Her vaginal canal felt like it shrank by half and he groaned at the unique combination of agony and ecstasy the sensation caused. He started moving again, this time with renewed vigor. The small turbo-lift was filled with the sounds of his balls slapping against her ass and her finger frantically rubbing her sopping, swollen clitoris.

Kathryn Janeway was, first and foremost, a scientist. As such, she knew the scientific definition of orgasm. It was the explosive discharge of neuromuscular tensions at the height of sexual arousal that was usually accompanied by the ejaculation of semen in the male and by vaginal contractions in the female. However, science was the furthest subject from her mind right now. It was starting. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath in anticipation. Her limbs stiffened and her entire world zeroed in on that tiny part of her anatomy as she drew closer and closer...

"Oh God, yes! Fuck, yes!"

An intense electric throbbing sensation radiated out from her vagina in waves, causing her vaginal muscles to contract rhythmically around Tom's penis. His breathing was labored and she felt his breath hot and heavy against her neck. He clamped down hard on her hips, holding her in place as he thrust deeply inside her. He groaned loudly when Kathryn felt his penis begin to pulsate, emptying himself into her. Her body reacted in kind, squeezing him with each stroke while she felt a warmth flood into her with every pulsating thrust.

Paris pulled out and stumbled back until he hit the turbo-lift wall. There, he sank down to floor with his back against the wall, his legs sprawled out in front of him. Janeway turned and leaned against the wall to stop from falling over. Slowly, her orgasm faded away, but small aftershocks continued to ripple through her intermittently.

"Wow", he said breathlessly. "That was incredible."

"Yes, it ... was." She was as winded as he. "Oh, my!", she suddenly said as her hand went to cup her mound. She looked mortified.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

She replied with an embarrassed look on her face. "I'm fine. I just never in my wildest dreams ever imagined I'd be standing in a turbo-lift, half-naked, with my pilot's semen leaking out of me and dribbling down the inside of my thigh."

"Oh, God. I didn't think..."

"Neither of us did. I think that's the point. We weren't thinking clearly."

Paris slowly rose to his feet, using the wall to help support himself. Then, he reached down and pulled up his pants. He reached inside his back pocket, pulled out a small white cloth, and offered it to her.

She looked at the proffered hand and commented, "A handkerchief, Mr. Paris? How gallant of you."

"Just like Othello and Desdemona … ma'am." He bowed from the waist.

She took the handkerchief and held in it in place while looking up at him with a wry smile. "My, but this day is full of wonders. I never pictured you as a Shakespeare man and I must say, I hope things bode better for us than Shakespeare's characters."

She cleaned herself as best she could under the circumstances while Tom dutifully stood with his back to her.

"You may turn around now, Mr. Paris", Janeway said in her most authoritative captain's voice.

She was completely dressed now and trying her best to regain her command presence before they exited the turbo-lift. However, no matter how straight her posture or how spit-and-polished her appearance, there was no mistaking that gleam in her eyes which said she had just been well and truly fucked.

Applying a final tug at her uniform jacket, she turned to Tom, "Ready, Mr. Paris?"

"Just a sec... I have a question first."

She nodded and he continued.

"How are you feeling?"

"How am I feeling?" She exhaled slowly and gave it serious thought. "Somewhat foolish, a little embarrassed, but not as bad as after the first time we..."

"Yes, I understand, but … How. Do. You. Feel, right now?"

She rubbed her forehead and looked up at him with a small smile on her face. "Actually... I feel wonderful … and not just the 'I've just had the best sex of my life' kind of wonderful. I feel relaxed; I feel like I can focus on something, well, something besides you, that is."

Tom smiled broadly and nodded. "Me too. I think I could actually do my job now, instead of thinking about how I wanted to bang you."

"Bang me, Mr. Paris?"

"Old Earth expression, ma'am. Basically, it's what we were just doing."

"I see. If there's nothing else, I'm sure the Doctor is wondering what happened to us. Computer, resume turbo-lift and end program Janeway-Two-Alpha-Pi."

"What is that program exactly?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "It erects a level 10 force field around my position plus three meters in all directions and shields that area from internal sensors. It also stops any auditory signal from escaping or conversely penetrating the area."

"You little minx! You use it to hide from us."

"Not often", she replied with a warm smile. "But it does come in handy on occasion." When she spoke next, she was all business. "And a warning, Mr. Paris. When we leave this lift, I'm Captain Janeway and you're Lieutenant Paris. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, ma'am."

The doors opened and a very angry Chief Engineer was sitting cross-legged on the floor with the turbo-lift's instrument panel removed, its electronic guts strewn across the floor. B'Elanna looked like she was ready to bite the head off of whoever walked out until she saw the Captain.

"Captain!", B'Elanna said in surprise. "Is everything all right?"

The Captain nodded courteously. "Good morning, B'Elanna. Everything's just fine. Thank you for asking." She started off down the hallway at her normally quick pace.

Tom glanced back into the lift and gulped audibly when he saw the torn lace balled up in the corner. Quickly, he ducked back in and shoved them into his pocket. B'Elanna looked at him for an explanation. He just shrugged and hurried to catch up with Janeway.

_For such a short woman, she sure could walk fast._

Janeway stopped around a bend in the corridor and dropped the soiled handkerchief in a recycler. Glancing sideways at Paris, she said with a quirky smile on her face, "Sorry, Othello."

In a low voice, Paris whispered lightheartedly, "What? You get to play around and have to be all 'Lieutenant Paris' and stuff?"

She sighed as one would while trying to explain something to a child. "Captain's prerogative."

Their casual banter ended abruptly once they entered sickbay.

**\***/**

The Doctor ran a medical tricorder over a centenarian wearing Chakotay's uniform. He was completely bald with sunken eyes and a shriveled body. Janeway and Paris stood off to the side.

In his characteristically clipped voice, the EMH gave Janeway his report. "Commander Chakotay is suffering bone decalcification, tissue necrosis, decreased visual acuity. All classic signs of aging, but they've developed within a day."

Chakotay struggled to rise up on his elbows and Janeway paced nearby, studying her friend and first officer. "Any theories?", the elderly patient asked.

"There's a rare genetic disorder called progeria which causes children to age prematurely, but there's never been an adult case and it was supposedly eradicated two centuries ago", the Doctor explained as he walked over to a monitor on the nearby table. "Even so, I took a close look at your DNA." Pointing to a double helix which everyone recognized, he continued, "These segments regulate your body's metabolism. My scans indicate that they've been hyper-stimulated somehow."

Paris stood back and watched the exchange, but something the Doc said about hyper-stimulated DNA made him start thinking. Obviously, this thing between he and the Captain wasn't normal behavior for either one of them. What if whatever _hyper-stimulated_ Chakotay's metabolism had hyper-stimulated their sex drive?

"What's the prognosis?", Janeway asked with concern.

"I can't speculate on that until I've identified the cause. There's no sign of an infectious agent."

Chakotay raised himself to a sitting position with much effort. "Well, I may look pretty strange, but my mind is perfectly clear. I'd like to get back to work."

"I'm not prepared to send you back on duty yet, Commander. You should remain in sickbay for observation." Turning back to the Captain, he added, "Whatever's affecting the Commander's DNA is working at a sub-molecular level. I'd like to set up an electron resonance scanner in the science lab to get a closer look."

She nodded her approval. "Use whatever you need, and ask B'Elanna to give you a hand."

"I'll get to work on the scanner right away. Mr. Paris, I have some additional tests I'd like you to perform here in sickbay while I work with B'Elanna."

Captain Janeway nodded and started to head towards the door.

Paris stepped forward. "Captain, wait please." Then, to the doctor said, "Doc, I think there's something we need to discuss with you … of a medical nature."

"We?", asked the EMH.

"The Captain and myself", Paris clarified.

"I feel fine", Janeway announced flatly.

"You feel fine now, but five hours from now..." He let the sentence trail off.

Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose. The sure sign that she had an oncoming headache. Then, she looked from the Doctor to Chakotay and finally to Paris and sighed in resignation.

"Alright. Let's talk in your office, Doctor."

**TBC**

**Author's Notes:**

Okay, so I cheated. I altered that last line in chapter 2 and added the part about running Janeway's anti-stalker program. Sorry, that's what I get for posting as I write.

And how about Othello and his handkerchief? It's not often you read Shakespeare references in Voyager fanfic. See? It's not just a smut-fest; it's a smut-fest with a plot.

This chapter has real dialogue from the ep for the medical stuff - sorry.

I really appreciate the nice reviews and keep them coming. I keeps me writing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Scientific Method Redux**

_**A Star Trek: Voyager fanfiction**_

**by**

**CanonAntithesis**

Summary: A Paris/Janeway rewrite of the 4th season episode, Scientific Method.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This fanfiction is based upon the UPN television series _Star Trek: Voyager_. All characters and situations other than my own are the sole property of Paramount.

**Chapter 4**

The EMH led Paris and Janeway into his office. He sat down behind his desk while Captain Janeway perched nervously on the edge of one of the two chairs positioned opposite. Lt. Paris stood quietly at her side. It was a testament to the respect the young helmsman had for his Captain, thought the Doctor. Janeway, for her part, wasn't paying any attention to Paris; instead she kept glancing out to where Chakotay lay on a biobed.

The Doctor felt this was the perfect opportunity to beta test some new upgrades he had installed to his program. First, he focused his full attention on the small woman sitting across from him. He tried making direct eye contact with her, but she wouldn't look in his direction. He cleared his throat; she looked at him. When he was first activated, it would have never occurred to his program to do such a thing.

"Don't worry, Captain.", he assured her. "The Commander's hearing is as decrepit as the rest of him. He won't be able to hear anything we say."

He was actually quite proud of the tweaks he had made to his 'bedside manner' subroutine. The Doctor had come a long way since his initial activation.

"Now, what seems to be the problem?" The sincerity in his voice as he knitted his eyebrows expressively would have made him tear up if he were human.

_I wonder if Lt. Torres could program me a pair of tear ducts? Hmmm... I'll have to make a note of that._

Abruptly, Janeway stood and faced the doorway, ready to bolt. "I can't do this. Chakotay's the one who needs your attention right now, not us."

Paris reached out and laid a hand comfortingly on her shoulder as she had so often done with him on the bridge.

"Please, Captain, listen to me. Chakotay's rapid aging, our … uncharacteristic behavior, they have to be connected."

Surprisingly, his touch felt soothing. However, if he had touched her like this two hours ago or a few from now... Janeway turned to face him and said in a low voice, "You may be right, Tom, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to discuss ..." She glanced over Paris' shoulder at the Doctor who sat with a bland expression on his face, patiently waiting.

Tom placed both hands on her shoulders, causing her to draw her attention back to him. "Maybe he can help us?"

"Maybe... I don't want any help", she suggested tiredly.

"That can't be true, Captain. I've known you for three and a half years now and if there's one thing about you that's always a constant, it's that you never like to lose control. When you do, you hate yourself afterward."

"This is different. This isn't a difficult command decision; it's my personal life."

"...which you are having very little control over right now."

She briefly closed her eyes and seemed to come to a decision. One more deep breath and she was ready. "Alright", she said to Paris. To the Doctor she added forcefully, "But this goes no further than the three of us, understood?"

The EMH had sat serenely at his desk throughout this entire conversation, listening closely, but not commenting. When Janeway finally seemed to notice he was in the room, he thought, _Finally... and they say I take a long time to make a point._

Smiling to convey confidence, he responded enthusiastically, "Absolutely, Captain. Doctor-Patient Confidentiality is one of the basic tenets of my programming. Plus, since my only lab assistant is also one of the patients, we shouldn't have an issue.", he repeated reassuringly. "Now, what seems to be the problem?"

Janeway sat back down in the chair, still on the edge, metaphorically and literally. "I'm not used to discussing my personal life, but perhaps Mr. Paris has a point."

_Boy, what I wouldn't give for a good, old fashioned Borg invasion about now_, Kathryn thought.

She waited a beat and when it didn't happen, continued, "We've been experiencing periods of … that is to say, the two of us have … for lack of a better word ..."

Tom Paris normally would never dare to interrupt a superior officer, but …

_Okay, that's a lie. I would have no problem interrupting the President of the Federation if I had the chance, but he probably wouldn't immediately throw me in the brig … and she might._

Carefully, weighing his odds and then, completely ignoring his own best advise, Paris blurted out, "We have uncontrollable physical lust for each other which leads to … frantic sex … lots of frantic sex."

Janeway groaned, bent over, and facepalmed directly into both of her opened hands.

The EMH was nonplussed and replied calmly, "I see." He immediately started taking notes and accessing his immense storehouse of medical knowledge. "And do you have these lustful thoughts for others?"

"Nope, just her." Paris unnecessarily pointed to Janeway.

"And you, Captain?"

Captain Janeway raised her head and peered at him through her fingers. Her voice sounded tired. "No, Doctor. Just Mr. Paris."

"Hmm, and how often do you feel the need to engage in sexual intercourse?"

Paris pursed his lips together and looked in Janeway's direction. "I don't know … maybe every six-seven hours?"

She moved her hands down to her lap and clasp them tightly together, her knuckles turning white. Janeway nodded and clarified. "Six hours is when the … urges … start, but they're manageable at that point. By seven hours, however..."

Paris interrupted, "You're just about ready to pop!"

"Yes." The EMH nodded thoughtfully. "And are you able to … pop individually?" Janeway looked mortified while Paris just looked confused. "By that I mean, are you able to masturbate to completion?"

Janeway suddenly found something very interesting in the design of the carpet. Tom actually blushed.

"I'll take that as a negative response", the Doctor concluded. "Let's see. When did this first start?"

Paris continued to pace. "When I woke up yesterday morning."

"And you, Captain? Yesterday morning also?"

Janeway slowly straightened up and started smoothing her hair which still hadn't recovered from their turbo-lift dalliance. She was obviously stalling for time.

"Captain?", the Doctor prompted.

"Um... yes, that would be … correct." Instead becoming more comfortable talking about this, it was becoming worse.

"Hmmmm, curious", the Doctor stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"What's curious, Doctor?", she snapped. He was starting to get on her nerves.

_He's a holographic program for fuck's sake. Hmmm, umm, let's see... He doesn't need to keep using vocal pauses in his speech. I've a mind to reset his program back to factory specs._

"That's the same time frame Commander Chakotay gave for the start of his ailment."

"See? I knew this was connected!", Paris blurted out.

"But connected how? Chakotay's body has aged over half a century and we … Well, it just doesn't make any sense." Janeway stood, placed her palms flat on the desk and leaned toward the Doctor. "What's wrong with us?"

"From your explanation of the symptoms, this sounds like hypersexuality syndrome. It's characterized by extremely frequent or suddenly increased sexual urges."

"Go on, Doctor."

The Doctor's face lit up with excitement. "It's really a very interesting disorder with much written about it throughout history. It was first known as Don Juanism for men or the Messalina Complex for women. You see, Don Juan was a fictional rake who took great pleasure in seducing women. And Valeria Messalina was the wife of ..."

"I don't care who they were, Doctor!", Janeway burst out.

Paris agreed. "Yeah, Doc. Just get on with it, okay?"

"Of course. Physical arousal caused by this syndrome can be very intense and persist for extended periods, days or weeks at a time." Paris groaned just thinking about it. "Orgasm can sometimes provide temporary relief, but within hours the symptoms return. The return of symptoms is sudden and unpredictable. The symptoms can be debilitating, preventing concentration on mundane tasks."

"I'll say!", provided Paris.

The EMH sent the pilot a withering look for continuing to interrupt him. "Please Mr. Paris, keep the extraneous comments to a minimum."

"Could we just ignore the … symptoms and stay away from each other? It seems to be worse when we're in close proximity."

"Oh no, Captain. That could actually be quite dangerous."

"Dangerous?", asked Paris.

"Yes. Failure or refusal to relieve the symptoms often results in waves of spontaneous orgasms in women and ejaculation in men."

"Seriously?", Tom asked.

Janeway stood back from the desk and silently contemplated this new information. That wasn't something she wanted to seriously consider.

The Doctor ignored the Lieutenant's question. Of course, he was being serious. "More to the point, however, is the hypothetical link between your syndrome and the Commander's rapid aging." He simulated a deep, calming exhalation before he continuing. "As explorers, members of Star Fleet have experienced any number of alien viruses which appear to mimic some of your symptoms. The PSI 2000 virus, for instance...", he turned his view screen so they could see the report he had accessed chronicling the experiences of the Enterprise under both Captains Kirk and Picard. "This virus lowers inhibitions which is definitely in evidence here. However, with PSI 2000, your attraction wouldn't be limited to just each other. Plus, this virus is extremely communicable and I would expect to see other crew members with similar symptoms.

"Also, this doesn't explain Commander Chakotay's problem. Curiously, Captain Kirk's Enterprise did have an experience with rapid aging, similar to the Commander's. In that case, it was due to exposure to a very rare form of radiation which isn't in evidence here.

"Other than the initial symptoms showing in the same time frame, I don't see any other link … at present. Right now, I'd like to do some scans on you two and we'll see where that leads us."

\***/

"Now pay attention, Mister Paris."

_Leave it to the Doc to turn this into a teaching moment._

Paris barely had time to see where the Doctor was pointing before he had changed the display.

He continued. "These scans should indicate whether – hmm. Hmmm... incredible."

"What is it?", Janeway asked as she joined them at the display.

Pointing to a monitor, he pointed to the split-screen display showing the data from Paris and Janeway's scan. "Look here. It looks like your DNA has been hyper-stimulated just like the Commander's.

"But we aren't aging."

"No, the effects are quite different." If Janeway hadn't known better she would have sworn he wagged his eyebrows. The Doctor continued. "It's a different segment of the DNA. In your case, it appears that the dopamine receptor gene called DRD4 is the one being stimulated. Dopamine is the so-called feel-good neurotransmitter in the brain. Low levels of dopamine can lead to clinical depression; whereas certain pleasurable pursuits like eating a favorite food, listening to a particularly moving piece of music, or...", he paused for dramatic affect. "engaging in sexual intercourse can trigger the release of dopamine."

"So this stimulated gene is enhancing the production of dopamine in our brains?", asked the Captain. _Finally, a scientific explanation for the very unscientific feelings I've been having._

"A good scientist never jumps to conclusions, Captain, but I'd say it's a distinct possibility."

Janeway scornfully raised one eyebrow at his apparent beratement of her theory.

"And it looks like you were correct, Mr. Paris. There does, indeed, seem to be a link between Chakotay's aging and your … syndrome. As far as I can tell, the Commander's condition seems stable. I'm going to leave you in charge of Sickbay so I can continue the DNA analysis in the lab."

Captain Janeway looked over at the biobed holding Chakotay. He had fallen asleep and was snoring loudly. Turning back to the Doctor, she asked, "But what about … I mean, what do we do when it starts again?"

"Might I suggest a course of action?"

Pensively, she said, "Please."

"I think you should arrange clandestine sexual liaisons on an ad hoc basis to occur before the symptoms become overwhelming."

"I beg your pardon." Janeway sounded as indignant as a woman could sound who had just admitted screwing a member of her senior staff.

"Until I know more, this is the best advise I have, Captain. Don't ignore the symptoms; embrace them."

Paris, for his part, looked mildly satisfied with the proposed treatment.

"Oh and one more thing", he added. The EMH walked over the the replicator and came back with two small devices. "I'd like you both to wear these monitors. They will record your brain activity. I'm very anxious to see what's going on inside your heads, so to speak, during orgasm."

Janeway squeezed her eyes shut. "Doctor, there must be some other..."

"Well, Captain... it's either this or my trusty tricorder and I will need to be in the room with you."

Begrudgingly, she replied, "Point taken."

They each obediently leaned their necks to the left and he attached the devices.

"I'm also prescribing you each a dermal regenerator."

"Why a regenerator?", asked Paris. _He couldn't possibly see those bite marks on the Captain's neck, could he? I was sure her turtle-neck covered them._

"The human body isn't equipped to handle sexual intercourse three times a day." The EMH looked at them pointedly and added, "There might be some chaffing." He ignored their identical looks of mortification.

**\***/**

The Doctor placed the prepared slide onto the electron resonance scanner and began examining the Commander's DNA sample. The scanner's screen emitted a blue light which reflected in the Doctor's face, giving him a intense appearance.

"How's the resolution?", Torres asked. Normally the Chief Engineer of a starship wouldn't be assisting on such a low-level project; but on Voyager, everyone lent a hand where they could.

"Very nice. Now, let's focus in on the hyper-stimulated segments of this DNA. Can you give me more magnification?"

After examining Commander Chakotay's DNA, they discovered a contaminant on the base pair sequence which looked like it contained some sort of alien writing.

The Doctor inserted Janeway's sample in the machine. "It's in the Captain's DNA as well."

"The Captain? I didn't realized she was affected by this. The last time I saw her, she looked fine." _...although Tom looked as nervous as a cat._

"Ah, yes. Well, it's a different segment of DNA being affected." He decided not to tell her that he saw the same marker in Paris' DNA.

"Oh. Let me try a compositional analysis." B'Elanna tried, but she couldn't get a clear reading on the sample. After compensating for a phase variance, she was able to pick up an energy signature emitting from the sample.

"Doctor, access the internal sensors and set them to a phase variance of 0.15."

"Right." He started to input the variables into the computer when his holo-emitter started to malfunction causing his image to flicker in and out.

"Lieutenant!", shouted the Doctor with panic rising in his voice.

Quickly, B'Elanna strode over to the EMH and examined his emitter. "Your program's being deleted!"

"How?"

She immediately returned to the console and started frantically entering commands. "I don't know. I'm transferring you back to sickbay." Before she could proceed, B'Elanna suddenly gasped as if she was having problems breathing and collapsed.

The Doctor rushed to her side and then, realizing he was about to be deleted, finished the sequence to transfer himself just as he disappeared and his emitter hit the floor.

**\***/**

Janeway had barely made it to the bridge, before she was called back to Sickbay. After leaving here the first time, she'd taken the time to stop by her quarters for a quick sonic shower and change of uniform. After this morning's activities it was a necessity, not a luxury.

Harry and Seven had found B'Elanna unconscious in the science lab and immediately transported her here. She tried to listen intently to what Tom was saying about this latest incident, but was starting to have problems concentrating again.

_Poor Tom, he looks so tired … and delicious._

They had arranged to _meet_ after shift, but she wasn't sure she was going to make it.

They approached the biobed where her Chief Engineer, B'Elanna Torres, lay motionless.

"What happened to B'Elanna?", Janeway asked with concern. She couldn't let her personal issues interfere with her duty to her crew. 

"The alveoli in her lungs suddenly stopped processing oxygen. I've got her on respiratory support. She almost died."

They gathered around the biobed where Seven and Kim joined them.

Turning to Kim, Janeway asked, "What about the Doctor?"

"The computer logs in the science lab show that he was trying to transfer himself to Sickbay. Something must have gone wrong while he was in transit."

Unknown to the others in the room, the EMH was contacting Seven-of-Nine through her Borg audio implants and asked her to meet him in the da Vinci simulation on Holodeck Two.

With the Doctor supposedly missing and the sickbay full of patients, Janeway reluctantly left Paris to his work.

**\***/**

Janeway was getting frantic. She paced back and forth in front of the huge viewport in her cabin. Her shift had ended forty-five minutes ago. There was still no sign of Tom. They had agreed to meet here in her cabin with the pretext of him hand-delivering a report concerning the current crisis. Of course, there was no actual reason for Tom to deliver a report, she only needed to make a few selections on her computer to access the data directly. In fact, she had been staring at said data for the last thirty minutes before she stood up and decided walking around might take her mind off _it_.

_So much for not waiting until the symptoms became overwhelming._

What started as a low tingling in her belly had steadily worked its way up to a full-blown distraction. She felt achy and swollen and wet. Her skin felt so sensitive that she was ready to rip her own clothes off, but that wasn't what she wanted; she _wanted _Tom and she wouldn't wait much longer.

Angrily, she ripped that stupid monitor off her neck and headed towards the door.

**\***/**

Tom stepped out of the shower feeling marginally better. He had splurged on a real water shower, even knowing that it would force him to eat in the mess hall for two weeks. It was well worth it. This had been the longest day of his life. He didn't think he was ever going to get away from sick bay. He had only a towel wrapped around his waist and was rubbing a hand towel through his hair when he heard the buzzer at the door.

_Crap! That's probably the Captain. I was supposed to be at her place forty-five minutes ago._

He quickly picked up a comb and started running it through his hair as he instructed the door to open.

There stood Harry Kim and Tom tried not to look disappointed. Apparently, it didn't work.

"Not who you expected?", Harry said as he held up a PADD for Tom to see. "I've been doing some analysis of these DNA tamperings and I wanted to see what you thought." The young Ensign eagerly stepped into the room. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the small device attached to Paris' neck. "Hey, what's with the monitoring device?"

"Huh?" Tom self-consciously touched the device, now clearly visible since he wore no shirt. He tried to wave it off. "Oh, it's nothing. Just something I'm testing for the Doc. It's a prototype; if this works out, he may issue them to everyone."

Harry looked distressed. "I hope not. I have very sensitive skin; that thing would probably give me a rash."

Tom needed to get rid him. He turned away from Harry and starting pulling out some casual clothes from the stack he kept on his dresser. He never seemed to get around to actually putting them into the drawers. "Now's not a good time, Har. Have you tried, Seven? She'd probably love to talk data with you."

Harry sighed. "I can't find her. The internal sensors are malfunctioning."

Dejectedly, Harry wandered over to Tom's desk near the door and started playing with Tom's collection of ancient desk toys. He particularly liked the silly looking bird with the red felt head and blue plastic top hat. His head and rear were made out of bulbous glass with a hollow tube connecting the two. The rear was filled with blue liquid. Harry dipped the head into a cup of water which Tom always kept there and started the bird on its never ending quest for drink. It would bob up and down for hours and Harry found it oddly fascinating.

"Well, I hate to rush you", called Tom from the other side the wall partition which separated the sleeping area from the lounging area, "but I do have somewhere to be. I have a meeting with Captain Janeway and I'm late."

Suddenly Harry's eyes were drawn to a wad of black lace lying in the center of the desk. Curiously, he picked it up and let out a low whistle as he held up the ripped pair of panties. "Oh, Toooom..." He held them out in front of him as he spoke. "I'd heard rumors about you and B'Elanna, but I didn't really believe them."

Harry wasn't even looking in Tom's direction; instead he was staring at the panties and trying to imagine B'Elanna wearing them. It wasn't working; for the life of him, he just couldn't see B'Elanna Torres wearing something so frilly. Then, who?

Tom leaned around the corner to see what Harry was talking about. He now wore comfortable blue jeans and held a plain, white t-shirt fisted in his hand. All the color drained from his face when he saw the Captain's panties in Harry's hands.

However, before he could react, his door opened and Captain Janeway, herself, strode in.

_Correction. It wasn't Captain Janeway who walked into his cabin; it was Kathryn, his Kathryn. Now where had that come from?_

She must have used her access code to enter.

_Captain's prerogative, indeed. _

He couldn't believe she'd actually come to his quarters. Her eyes looked different, Tom noted, and he quickly realized they were so dilated that they looked almost completely black. She wore her hair loose and it flowed down her back, softening her flushed face. Tom gulped nervously when he saw her hand on the zipper of her uniform jacket. She walked purposefully toward him.

"Tom..." Her voice sent shivers down Tom's spine. Its raspy, throatiness was as sexy as hell. She was walking towards him very slowly while pulling the zipper down centimeter by centimeter.

_Oh, God..._

He knew he should say something; stop her, but he couldn't move. A sudden crash from Tom's desk shook him from his trance. Harry was frantically trying to clean up broken glass and liquid from the now shattered drinking bird toy. For a second Tom had actually forgotten the young Ensign was there. 

Tom sighed, realizing that Harry's mishap had saved them all from an even more embarrassing moment. He stepped toward the desk and reassured his best friend, "It's okay, Harry. Just leave it; I'll take care of the clean-up later. I need to give my report to the Captain now." Over his shoulder, he addressed Janeway. "I've got that report right here, ma'am."

When she didn't respond, he turned to look at her fully only to see that she was still standing with her back to them. "Captain?", Tom asked cautiously. He saw as she slowly straightened her back and tilted her head first left, then right, as if she was stretching before starting an exercise regimen. Captain Janeway turned around, leaving Kathryn buried completely within that stern command presence. It surprised Tom at how sadden he was by this transformation.

Harry, for his part, had still been trying to clean up the mess until he looked down and realized that he was using the black lace panties to soak up the spill. In a panic, Harry shoved the panties into his pocket, hoping no one noticed.

"Mr. Kim...", Captain Janeway started, her voice as rigid and controlled as the rest of her. "If you'll excuse us, Lieutenant Paris and I have an appointment."

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. Have a good even- I mean a good meeting; right, have a good meeting." During this exercise of groveling, Harry was slowly backing towards the door until it opened. As he turned to flee, Tom saw black lace poking out of right pocket.

_Oh, crap!_

Thinking he might need to tell the Captain about her missing undergarments, Tom turned to Janeway. She looked completely different. Gone was the austere commanding officer; instead, he found a vivid, lusty woman barely in little control.

"Oh, Tom...", she breathed forcefully through her nostrils. "I need you."

**TBC**

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry this took so long. I got really bogged down with the technical explanation of their ailment. Originally, I had about two additional pages of Trekno-speak involving dopamine receptors and norepinephrine. Then, I decided that it didn't have to make complete sense because this is Star Trek, right?

Anyway, I discovered a curious thing when I started this chapter while rewatching the episode. In the Janeway/Alien Scientist in the brig scene, the alien says, "We've been increasing your dopamine levels, stimulating various aggressive impulses to test your behavioral restraints."

Apparently, dopamine controls a heck of a lot of stuff inside our brains. It's the feel-good neurotransmitter in the brain, but can also cause aggressive behavior. Go figure. But the cool thing was, I get to use that same chemical to get our two favorite folks together.

I apologize for the use of so much actual dialogue from the episode. Please forgive.

I'd love to know what you think of this chapter. Thanks.

Oh, and sorry for, yet another, evil cliff-hanger.


	5. Chapter 5

**Scientific Method Redux**

_**A Star Trek: Voyager fanfiction**_

**by**

**CanonAntithesis**

Summary: A Paris/Janeway rewrite of the 4th season episode, Scientific Method.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This fanfiction is based upon the UPN television series _Star Trek: Voyager_. All characters and situations other than my own are the sole property of Paramount.

**Chapter 5**

"_I need you."_

Kathryn was on him as soon as his cabin door hissed shut. She kissed, bit, and caressed every exposed area of skin on her handsome helmsman. She paused briefly at his delicious neck and pulled back to examine the medical sensor the doctor had placed on them. Hers was lying, discarded somewhere in her quarters and if she had her say... Without over thinking it, she ripped the sensor off his neck and tossed it over her shoulder.

"No spies, tonight", she whispered as she kissed and gently sucked the area of his neck where the sensor had been, soothing the red mark she'd caused.

Her hands moved lower and she teased his flat nipples with the pads of her thumbs causing Tom to moan loudly into her mouth. Quickly, she became frustrated at the antiquated button-fly on the blue jeans and started ripping at the denim. Throughout all of this, she was slowly maneuvering him backwards toward the sleeping area.

Tom let out an exclaim of surprise when the back of his knees hit the bed. He collapsed backward onto the unmade sheets. The Captain took a moment to strip off her uniform jacket, turtle-neck and tank top, leaving her clad in only her bra, uniform pants and boots. Tom noticed with delight that the bra she wore matched the panties that... well, he didn't want to go there, right now.

She resumed her attack of his jeans and he obliged her by lifting his hips while she pulled them off. Kathryn paused momentarily, looking down at him in confusion. He had an erection, of course, she'd just teased it out of him; however, it wasn't the throbbing, purple, painfully needy hard-on he'd had the last time.

Her heart was pounding so fast, she thought he surely must be able to see it beating against the black lace of her bra. Breathlessly, she whispered, "I don't understand." His body didn't seem to be needing her as much as she needed him.

"There's nothing to understand. Let's just take it slow and enjoy it this time."

The burst of laughter that erupted from her mouth sounded almost unhinged. "I can't! You, of all people, have to understand how this feels... and it seems to be getting worse each time. Please, just let me ..." Sweeping her hair over one shoulder to get it out of the way, she placed her small hand around his semi-erect penis, followed immediately by her wet mouth.

Tom couldn't help the moan of pleasure that escaped his mouth. She moved her hand and mouth in tandem over his rapidly stiffening cock. He looked down to watch her and nearly came. As fantastic as this tactile overload felt, the sight of Kathryn Janeway enthusiastically sliding up and down on his shaft was almost more than he could handle.

As wonderful as it felt to be inside her, this was a close second. Every bob of her head seemed to cause him to grow and stiffen more. Kathryn moaned in appreciation. She loosened up her throat and sank down as far as she could. Then when he was firmly placed in the back of her throat, she swallowed. It had been a long time since she'd given a lover a blowjob, but she was proud to say, she was pretty damn good at it. The rolling of her contracting throat over his penis was apparently an exquisite sensation. After being in so deep, she needed to give herself a break and slowly slipped off, allowing her hand to continue to slowly pump him. Immediately, Kathryn moved down to his scrotum and slowly inhaled that completely male musky scent which could only be found in this dark, secret place. She nuzzled the wiry hairs and his scent seemed to soak into her very pores. While inhaling, she realized that being in complete control of Tom Paris had given her back some of her own control. She didn't feel quite as frantic as she was earlier. She placed her mouth on one of his orbs and gently sucked it into her mouth. Tom groaned in pleasure.

Lifting her head to look up at him, Kathryn commented wryly, "See, slow isn't all it's cracked up to be; now is it?"

He moaned again and looked down to her smiling wickedly up at him before plunging back down on his member.

_God, she was beautiful... but this wasn't how it was supposed to happen tonight._

It took all his reserves of willpower to stop her; but when he had realized that his feelings of lust weren't on that edge yet, he decided he wanted to make this time special, not just a quickie up against the turbo-lift wall. Tom didn't understand why his lust wasn't experiencing a core meltdown yet, but he decided he'd try and take advantage of it. Reaching down, he gently put his hands on her face and lifted it until she was looking him in the eye. "Let me, Kathryn... please."

"Let you do what?" The fiery redhead looked slightly put-off. "Is something wrong with how I'm doing _this_?" The cock of her eyebrow told him she found no problem with her own performance.

"God, no! You're fantastic..." He sat and pulled her into his lap. "But I wanted to make this night special for you." He started kissing down the column of her neck, eliciting an appreciative moan from Kathryn. "I don't know why I'm not so frantic this time, but I decided I wanted to take this time to give you the pleasure you deserve."

"Oh." It was rare to put Kathryn Janeway in a position where she was at a loss for words. Tom Paris had accomplished it.

His lips quickly found her lace covered nipples and anxiously licked and teased each one in turn. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and let his tongue worry it into a rigid point. The friction of his mouth through the black lace on her aroused breast was a wonderful sensation, but she needed more.

She tried to reassert herself by removing her own bra, but Tom gently overpowered her by capturing both of her hands in one of his and held them low behind her back.

"Ah, Ah, Ah... not yet."

He rolled her onto her stomach and pressed his naked body on top of hers, releasing her arms which now lay at her sides.

"Are you going to be good?", his hot breath whispered into the shell of her ear.

She swallowed hard. This was the second time he'd done this to her - taken complete control during sex. And God help her, she loved it. "Oh, yes..." Her voice was thick with need.

"Good, now close your eyes and lie completely still. I promise you'll enjoy this." Tom licked her ear and nibbled gently on the outer shell.

One of the trademarks of a good pilot was anticipating obstacles well in advance of them becoming problems. Tom Paris was a very good pilot. Therefore, he moved immediately to the bottom of the bed and quickly removed Kathryn's boots and socks. Noting, only to himself, how high the heel was on those boots. Except for that first time they had been together, he had never seen her without her boots. Tom had very little memory of that night. The desire to be inside her had overridden everything else. Now, he could take a moment to realize that Kathyrn Janeway was one tiny, petite woman. He filed this away for another time.

Slowly, he began to map her body, studying every inch of her. Starting at her shoulders, he slipped the bra straps off. To his delight, Tom found a scattering of freckles there. What might look cute on someone else, looked sexy as hell on Kathryn Janeway. He kissed his way to her shoulder blade, tracing his teeth around the triangularly shaped bone. Steadily, he charted a course down her spinal column, kissing and licking until he reached the waistband of her trousers.

_Thank God, twenty-fourth century clothing was easier to remove than twentieth. _

He slipped his hands into the waistband and evenly pulled her pants and panties down over her hips and buttocks. Looking down at her, Tom marveled at the perfection of his Captain's backside: the flawlessness of her pale skin, the muscular, yet feminine shape of her legs, the beauty of her splendid ass...

"Tom?" He'd been so quiet she started to lift her head to look back at him.

"Shhh..." He smoothly pushed her back down. "I'm having a moment."

"A moment? With my rump?"

"You're supposed to be lying still with your eyes closed."

"You're supposed to be seducing me, not staring at my backside."

Whispering into her ear, he said, "This evening Will . Not . Be . Rushed."

He reached over and picked up a small bottle off his nightstand. Opening it, he poured the scented oil in his hands before bringing it to her shoulders. She jumped in surprise, but quickly relaxed under the sure, muscular hands of her lover. He worked his way down her body soothing the tight muscles and rubbing the sensual oil deep into her skin. When he reached her buttocks, Kathryn shamelessly lifted her hips to give him easier access to where she wanted his hands to be. However, instead of touching her sex, he continued down to her thighs and calves, spending an exorbitant amount of time with her feet.

In frustration she raised herself up on her elbows and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Remember, what the Doctor said about not waiting too long?"

"Yeah... but the Doc's MIA right now." He was in the midst of deeply rubbing the arch of one of her tiny feet. "That means I'm in charge and I'm prescribing therapeutic massage. I'm sure, if the Doctor was here, he'd do the same."

Despite herself, Kathryn failed to smother the giggle that slipped out of her mouth. "Yeah, right... I can just imagine our EMH giving me a massage. No, wait! I really don't want to imagine that at all."

Moving quickly back up her body, he settled himself flush against her, his erection fitting snugly into the crack of her ass. The massage oil from her body lubricating both of them. He moved her mane of hair out of the way and started nibbling on the back of her neck. "What do you _want_ to imagine, Kathryn?"

"Please...", she pleaded. She couldn't take much more of this teasing.

"Please, what? You have to tell me or I won't know what to do."

Tom rubbed the length of his body against her naked back, enjoying the feel of her oily butt cheeks as his dick slid up and down, simulating sex. _Damn, I think I could actually cum from this alone._

"Oh, God...", she said through gritted teeth. "I . Want . You . To . _Fuck_ . Me." She spread her legs open hoping he would end this damn teasing and enter her.

"Is that an order, Captain?", he asked wickedly and in the process, catching her completely off guard.

She stiffened at his question. This was a line she wasn't willing to cross, even in fun. "No-no, I-I..."

Tom decided to take advantage of her unbalanced state and in the process finally start to give her what she wanted. He quickly flipped her over onto her back, parted her legs and before she could react, sank his mouth down onto her clitoris. They both moaned in unison as he began to slowly massage her nub with quick flicks of his tongue.

"Oh, God...", Kathryn groaned. She bent her knees and eagerly lifted her pelvis into his mouth. More, she still needed more.

He slowly pulled his lips off her labia and kissed the insides of her thighs before returning to her center. Tom pulled her nether lips apart to reveal her swollen clitoris. He paused to take in the beauty of Kathryn's womanhood.

_Okay, that sounds perverse, even to me, but seriously, this woman's female reproductive organ is beautiful. And I've obviously been working way too many hours in sick bay._

Tom remembered reading about an old Earth artist named Georgia O'Keeffe whose sensual paintings of orchids were intimately detailed and erotic. Unfortunately, this was during his pubescent years and he and his friends had giggled over this long-dead artist's rendering of dark erotic flowers. Now, he could understand and appreciate the comparison. The deep red color and velvet texture of Kathryn's labia suggested the labellum of the orchid bloom. The way her clitoris swelled and folded out of its hood whispered to the flower's own reproductive organ contained inside the column. Her vulva glistened with her own wetness, reminiscent of morning dew on the bud.

"Beautiful", he whispered right before plunging two fingers into her. He crooked his fingers around and probed the front of vagina until he found a rough, ridged area that he knew would give her the most pleasure.

Kathryn knew those long, tapered fingers would be good at this. She knew of his reputation with women. It was well deserved. This man had managed to find her so-called G-spot in less than ten seconds and she'd been looking for the damn thing for nearly 25 years.

"Fuck!", she shouted as she started to move her lower body in rhythm with his fingers. _Good Lord, I'm shamelessly fucking Tom Paris' hand._

Reaching under her and gripping her ass securely with his other hand, Tom's mouth once again found her swollen bundle of nerves peeking out from under a protective hood of flesh.

His two pronged attack sent her quickly careening toward ecstasy. Tom always knew Janeway had a saucy mouth. The entire bridge crew had heard her on more than one occasion, cursing like an old Terran sea sailor. However, the words that came out of her mouth right before her pussy clamped down on his fingers would have made an Orion pirate blush.

He held his lips on her sex as she rode out her orgasm. It felt wonderful the way her nether lips fluttered against his mouth. This was the real Kathryn Janeway, not the uptight, chaste, Star Fleet Captain. This was a sensual, sexy woman... and she was his.

"Thank you. You have no idea how wonderful that was", she panted slowly.

"Oh, I think I have a small clue."

She reached down and touched his shoulder. "Come up here with me", she whispered.

"Not yet. I like it right where I am."

He gently kissed her mons and reveled in the small fluttering of aftershocks he could still feel through his hand. Tom turned his head and laid his cheek on her mound, closing his eyes in the process. This really was where he wanted to be. Kathryn lazily reached down and started playing with his hair, but soon stilled her hand at the base of his neck. Her breathing slowed and he thought she might be falling asleep. Very slowly and very gently Tom started moving his fingers in a slow scissor-like motion within her core.

"No!" She shot up and attempted to push him away. "It's too soon. I-I can't..."

"Yes, you can. Trust me." He gently pushed her back and latched onto her clit.

\***/

_Four orgasms in one night and that's not counting the one in the turbo-lift … or the night before._

Kathryn sighed contentedly. Until today, she hadn't had four orgasms since this Delta Quadrant adventure began. She realized she had a goofy smile on her face. Then, she realized she didn't care. She was wearing Tom's soft, white t-shirt and lying half-on, half-off him with her head resting on his bare chest while she idly played with the sparse blonde hair around one of his nipples. Tom had one hand held possessively on her right butt cheek while the other finger combed through her still damp hair. Her final orgasm of the night occurred during their shower about twenty minutes ago. She insisted on using her own rations for a real water shower. What happened in that shower was well worth a coffee-free month. That's when they finally enjoyed full, penetrative intercourse and he allowed himself to join her in falling over that final edge together.

She was fighting sleep. Not because she felt uncomfortable where she was, but because she didn't want this to end yet, this closeness, this companionship.

"I didn't know you spoke so many languages." Tom broke their peaceful silence.

"What do you mean?", she asked, without lifting her head, thankful that talking would keep her awake.

"Well... every time, that is, right before you... you know... You swear in Klingon, Ferengi, and a few Earth languages I didn't recognize."

"Ahhh, well, swearing would be the optimal word. I don't actually fluently speak any of those, except for Irish. I spent many summers with Maimeó Katie. And let me tell you... that woman's skill at the use of profanity was legendary." She let out a deep chuckle at the memory of that wonderful sharp-tongued woman.

"I never really knew my grandparents. My dad insisted that we move with him where ever he went and there just never seemed to be time for any family other than us."

"I'm sorry. My mother insisted that our family stay put in Indiana. It gave me roots, a sense of belonging, but on the flip-side, we never saw my father."

"Yes, but you grew up to follow in his footsteps and I grew up to become the black sheep of _my_ family."

She pushed herself up on her elbows to look him in the eye. "That's not true! Tom, you've accomplished so much since joining this crew. You broke the warp 10 barrier..."

"And knocked you up." Before their bout of hypersexuality, the Warp 10 incident where they evoluted into giant lizard-like creatures and procreated, had been their most awkward episode to date.

"That's beside the point. You're an outstanding officer and I trust you with my life and … my ship." Tom smiled knowing that was high praise, indeed. "You just wait... when we get home-"

"My father will find out that I screwed his favorite protege", he finished for her.

Kathryn playfully slapped him on the chest and settled her head back down.

She sighed. "It's getting late."

Tom braced himself for the inevitable. He was surprised that she hadn't flown from the room hours ago. What was he expecting? She would want to stay with him? Sleep in his quarters? With him? _Dream on, Paris._

The silence made her a little nervous; however, Kathryn had already made up her mind, so she plunged ahead. "Do you think... that is", she stammered uncharacteristically. "... would you mind if I stayed here for the rest of the night?"

He pulled her up to him and gently kissed her on the lips. "I think that would be an outstanding idea."

-TBC-

**Author's Notes:**

I learn so much when I write. In the last chapter, I learned about dopamine receptors. In this chapter, I learned about orchids. Did you know that in Victorian times, women weren't allowed to grow or view orchids? True Fact! They were deemed too unseemly for the delicate sex.

Wow, I had no idea when I started this chapter that it would be just one long sex scene. Sorry, if you were expecting a more intricate plot here. I find that sometimes the characters are difficult to control and if they want to have long, drawn out sex, then who am I to argue.

Thank you for all the kind reviews and keep 'em comin'.


	6. Chapter 6

**Scientific Method Redux**

_**A Star Trek: Voyager fanfiction**_

**by**

**CanonAntithesis**

Summary: A Paris/Janeway rewrite of the 4th season episode, Scientific Method.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This fanfiction is based upon the UPN television series _Star Trek: Voyager_. All characters and situations other than my own are the sole property of Paramount.

_Warning for this chapter only: scenes of violence, attempted rape. This one's a little on the dark side._

**Chapter 6**

Kathryn awoke encased in the warm cocoon of Tom's body. He was spooned around her with his hand held possessively on her left breast and her hand atop his. She didn't want to move... ever.

Tom was beginning to stir, literally.

He nuzzled the back of her neck. "Hmmm... good morning", his voice was a warm whisper.

She pushed herself back until she felt his erection pressing into her soft cheeks. "Yes... it is." Her voice was rough as if she'd overused it the night before.

"How are you feeling?"

She answered without hesitation. "Wonderful."

He chuckled. "Me too... but I mean … clinically, how are you feeling?"

Kathryn hesitated for a second and took stock of herself: her emotions, her body. Her emotions felt fine - better than fine. Wonderful was an accurate response. Her body was sore in places that hadn't been sore in years and she was secretly grateful for the Doctor's insistence on giving them a dermal regenerator. She planned on making good use of it as soon as she was alone.

"I feel … fine, not anxious at all, but...", she wiggled her rump against him, "that doesn't mean I don't want..."

**\***/**

"How _many_?", asked the Doctor in disbelief.

The Emergency Medical Hologram was still hiding in the holodeck's rendering of da Vinci's Renaissance Italy. He looked very fashionable by 14th century standards. His bald head was covered by a chic black velvet beret topped off by a large golden plume. He wore a white cotton shirt with voluminous long sleeves which he covered with a sleeveless burgundy velvet jacket decorated with intricate embroidery. If his goal was to blend into this holoprogram, he had chosen well.

Seven-of-Nine stoically delivered her report. "I've observed fifty-six of the aliens. There could be more."

After the EMH adjusted Seven's ocular implant to the correct frequency, she was able to see the previously 'invisible' aliens and the various devices and implants they had installed on the crew.

"Have you seen any pattern to their behavior? Any hint as to what they're trying to accomplish?" The Doctor paced as he listened to her disturbing report. 

"They seem to be conducting experiments on the crew and monitoring the results."

Seven went on to inform the Doctor that she believed there was a way to make them visible by using a precisely modulated phaser beam. The EMH felt that course of action was too risky as the aliens may retaliate on the crew. He felt that a neuraleptic shock to the crew would disable the genetic tags the aliens placed inside them. Unfortunately, it would be rather painful.

Seven agreed and planned to reconfigure the power relays to simultaneously shock everyone and render the alien devices nonfunctional. She took her leave of the doctor.

Unfortunately, Tuvok misinterpreted Seven's motives and she was forced to use the alternative she and the Doctor discussed. She directed a modulated phaser beam at one of the aliens which only she was able to see. The alien became visible to all and Seven quickly captured it.

**\***/**

Kathryn could feel Tom's cock throbbing within her. She smiled, knowing she was in complete control. His hand caught her breast and squeezed, twisting the nipple as she continued to ride him.

"_Seven-of-Nine to Captain Janeway."_

Kathryn rolled off Tom and onto her back, throwing an arm over her face in frustration.

**\***/**

"Who are you and what the _hell_ are you doing to my crew?" Captain Janeway slowly walked up to the doorway of the cell where the alien scientist was being held in the ship's brig.

The alien was humanoid, taller than Janeway with pale skin and androgynous features. She had elaborate ear cartilage which extended downward to the cheeks and upwards into the hairline of the being. 

The alien seemed unfazed by Janeway's anger and sat calmly with her hands resting on her thighs. She replied steadily and directly, "My team has been observing you and conducting tests."

"Tests?", Janeway sneered. "I'd call them mutilations."

"I can understand why you're angry. I don't like causing people to suffer, but sometimes it's a necessary part of my work."

"What kind of work is that?"

"Medical research. We're scientists, like you." 

"From where I stand you're a hostile invasion force. I want to know how long you've been here and exactly what you've been doing to us."

"I can't answer those questions. It's a breach of protocol for me to be speaking to you at all." 

"Oh, how convenient - not allowed to talk to the lab rats? That way you never have to face your victims." 

The alien rose and walked closer to the force field which separated her from Janeway. "Captain, please... I know I shouldn't, but I'm actually quite excited to be speaking with you. The human sexuality study presented us with quite the conundrum. You're a remarkably strong-willed individual. We've altered your dopamine receptors and steadily increased the amounts of that chemical in your brain for the past several weeks, but to no avail. However, the scientists on your project noticed significant increases in your respiration, heart rate, blood pressure, and so on, whenever Lieutenant Paris was near. Therefore, we made a field-decision to add him as one of the participants. As you can attest, it worked." The alien scientist smiled wryly.

"How..." Janeway started to say, but the alien interrupted her.

"Wait! It gets even more interesting. Paris responded immediately, as the hypothesis indicated. However, he only responded to you; he didn't seem to notice any other female on the ship, just as you did with him. Therefore, we altered more of the parameters to see if you would mate with others. Even when we completely disengaged the genetic tag from Lt. Paris and tripled your neurotransmitter levels, you still found only each other."

"So what? You call yourselves scientists. This is a completely flawed experiment. You take two individuals, ramp up their hormone levels and put them together... what the _hell_ did you think would happen?" Janeway was getting angrier and angrier. She knew she hadn't been in control of her own emotions for the past two days, but to find out that she was being specifically manipulated...

"But that's just it, Captain. You all are completely isolated on this small ship all day, every day. That's what makes it the perfect laboratory for our experiments. Therefore, there is no reason to 'put you together' as you say. You passed seven human males on your way to Paris' quarters last night. The others didn't seem to care who-"

Janeway paled noticeably. "Others? What others?"

The scientist sighed as if she were speaking to a child … or a lab rat. "The human sexuality study originally involved four individuals: two female and two male. Lieutenant Paris became the third male."

"Three others?" Janeway disengaged the force field and entered the cell, advancing on the alien. "You did this to three more of my crew members?"

The alien stepped back as the Captain approached, but then stood her ground. "That's correct. The other three behaved as expected. For example, the female mated with fourteen different individuals, eleven male and three female. The males haven't been as prolific."

Captain Janeway grabbed the alien around her throat. _No one messes with my crew._ She released her almost immediately, realizing that this too was manipulation.

The alien cleared her throat and tried to appear unaffected. "I had hoped you'd be more co-operative once you realized the importance of our work."

"Sorry. These lab rats are fighting back."

"I'm afraid that would be pointless. We're monitoring your attempts to break our control over you. You won't succeed."

"You may find that you've underestimated us."

"Consider what's in the best interests of your crew. We will be continuing our research. In fact, you should probably go find Paris now. He may need your help. If you make no further attempts to interfere, I assure you that the fatality rate will be minimal, though there may be some deformities. And I would be willing to share our final data with you."

"You can't possibly expect me to accept that."

"If you don't, then the entire experiment and its subjects will be terminated." Janeway turned to leave and the alien called after her. "I wouldn't keep Paris waiting too long, Captain."

**\***/**

As Janeway left the brig, she heard a commotion approaching from around a bend in the hallway.

"Pleeeease, Tuvok! I didn't mean to hurt her. I just wanted to fuck her. Please let me fuck her. That's all I'm asking. You're a man, you must understand."

_What, now?_

Tuvok appeared, leading a procession of two large, muscular security guards who had a much smaller man held tightly between them. Janeway vaguely recognized the smaller man as a Lieutenant from Engineering. He looked like he had been in a bar fight. His uniform was torn and he had four deep

parallel scratches running diagonally across his face. They were obviously made by long fingernails.

She motioned for Tuvok to join her and the security team escorted their prisoner into the brig.

"What's this about, Tuvok?"

The Vulcan Security Chief's jaw tightened before he made his report. "Lieutenant Chapman is being held for attempted sexual assault."

"My, God... Is his victim alright?"

"She is being treating in sickbay for a bloodied nose and psychological trauma."

"But he didn't actually..."

"No, Captain. Mr. Kim heard her scream and intervened."

"Good, good." This had never happened before. She had an excellent crew and things like this just did not occur on Star Fleet vessels. Then, it hit her. "Tuvok, have someone from sickbay get a DNA sample of Lt. Chapman."

"Captain?"

"I believe you'll find his DRD4 dopamine receptors have been artificially stimulated."

Tuvok nodded stoically and didn't question his captain. He had the utmost trust in anything this woman told him.

"Also, be on lookout for two more. There are another human male and female involved in this _experiment_." She spit out the word, experiment, in disgust. Reaching out, she laid a hand on his arm. "And Tuvok...", she waited until their eyes locked. "Don't put this in Chapman's official record. I don't want this affecting his career. He isn't responsible." Looking back toward the brig where their alien captive sat, she added fiercely, "It's those damned aliens."

"Understood, Captain."

Janeway continued down the corridor towards the turbo-lift which would take her to the bridge. She needed to discuss their situation with Seven. She rounded another bend and the turbo-lift was in sight when a strong hand suddenly clamped over her mouth and she felt herself being dragged backwards through an open doorway and into a darkened room. She could feel the man's erection stabbing into her lower back. Panic set in; this had to be the second man in their experiment. She immediately reacted and kicked backwards at the man. Her boot connected with his shin and he loosened his hold on her. Janeway was able to wrench her arm free and quickly brought her elbow back and up to connect with, what was hopefully, his nose. He immediately released her and let out a muffled curse and low moan.

_That voice. Oh, Lord._

"Tom?", she called out in the dark. Then, "Computer, lights!" The room was immediately brought into stark reality. They were in a small storeroom with tall shelves lining three of the walls. Each shelf contained foodstuff, bags of flour, rice, beans, etc. This must Neelix's auxiliary pantry here down on Deck Nine. Janeway's hair clip had become lost in the struggle and she swept stray wisps of hair away from her face. That's when she noticed that her uniform jacket was torn and hanging down, revealing the turtleneck below.

Paris was leaning against a shelf, trying to take the weight off his injured knee and cupping his hands over his nose. Even though he was in obvious pain, the young medic/helmsman was looking at her with a odd mixture of confusion, anger, and … lust.

She quickly closed the distance between them and gently pulled his hands down and away from his face, so she could examine the damage. "I'm so sorry. I thought you … were someone else."

"Owww, I think you broke my nose." Paris' voice sounded muffled, as if his breathing was congested.

"That's ridiculous. Quit being such a big baby and give me your handkerchief."

He reached in his pocket and handed it to her. While she dabbed at the small amount of blood dripping from his nose, Paris took her other hand and placed it on the obvious erection that was straining against his pants.

"I need you." He leaned into her and inhaled deeply. "Shit, I need you now!"

He roughly spun her around and pushed her body up against a vertical support bracket for one of the shelves, knocking the wind from her lungs, and smashing into her face. She immediately felt the metallic taste of blood in her mouth from where she had viciously bit down on her own tongue. Everything was happening too fast and Janeway had no time to react. Before she could regain her balance and try to wrestle back control of the situation, her uniform pants and panties were hanging off her body in shreds. Then, she felt his knee nudging her legs apart to be quickly replaced by the hardness of his cock. She didn't know when he had managed to free himself.

_Oh, God. This can't be happening!_

Mustering all her reserves of strength, Janeway slammed her head back, making direct contact with Paris' already bloody nose. He screamed out in pain and stumbled back, tripping in the process and landing hard on his back.

The Captain wasted no time and awkwardly shuffled towards the door with the remnants of her pants pooling around her ankles. However, before she came within sensor range of the automatic opening mechanism, Paris managed to grab her ankle and pull. She fell forward and heard, before she felt, the crack as her cheek hit the deck. Then, an explosion of pain spread out from her shattered cheekbone and pounded into her skull. In her stunned state, it didn't take much for Paris to flip her back over. He knelt on her small body and held her securely in place with his knees on her upper thighs.

Paris grabbed all three layers of shirts she wore and savagely pulled them up over her head, leaving her arms still enclosed, effectively pinning her with her own clothing. Roughly pulling down the cups of her bra, Paris groped at his Captain's breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipples until she cried out in pain. Janeway had hoped to keep this between the two of them, but she had completely lost control. She started screaming for help. The only personnel on this deck would be Tuvok's security detail and they were all busy in the brig. Her chances of rescue seemed bleak.

Paris silenced her by clamping both hands around her throat and squeezing while violently banging her head against the deck. "Hold still, damnit! I need you, so stop fighting me!" She looked up at this stranger on top of her and became terrified.

_Oh God, this is really happening. My dear, sweet, caring Tom is going to rape me._

Janeway frantically pulled at his hands to ease the pressure on her windpipe, managing only to scratch Paris' hands and her own throat. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and her vision began to fuzz around the edges. She longed to ask him, beg him, to stop, but she couldn't pull enough air into her lungs to voice the words.

Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, Tom blinked once and looked down at Kathryn lying helplessly under him. He immediately released her neck and stared at his hands as if he'd never seen them before.

_God, what am I doing?_

The Captain raggedly tried to suck air into her deprived lungs and started coughing uncontrollably. Tom jumped up and away from her. The petite woman scooted backwards, away from Paris, until she hit the wall. She knew she needed to act, to get help, to get away, … something, but that monster was between her and the door and quite frankly, she was afraid to move. She did, however, manage to pull her bra back down over her aching breasts. The only salvageable piece of clothing she had was her gray tank top and she quickly pulled it on. Then, she pulled her knees up to her chest and waited … and watched.

Tom stood up and faced away from her while he pulled up his pants. He tucked his now limp penis back into his underwear. He had very little memory of the last half hour. After Kathryn left his quarters, he dressed as usual and headed to sickbay where he knew he would be needed. The part-time medic was surprised to see the Doctor back on duty. They briefed each other concerning the current crisis and the EMH judiciously refrained from asking about his and the Captain's predicament. Tom was shocked to find out the ship was full of "invisible" alien scientists and as the Doc put it, Voyager was one big petrie dish.

Some time afterward, he started to feel those stirrings of arousal and he knew he had to find Kathryn. It was like a biological imperative to find her. He knew she was questioning the captive alien in the brig and so Tom headed in that direction. As he walked through the corridors, his lust started to quickly change to anger. Where was she? How dare she make him look for her? Who did she think she was? Then everything went dim until he found his hands wrapped around the Captain's thin neck with him smashing her head into the deck.

Tom turned around to face Kathryn. He wanted to go to her, to help her, to hold her, to love her. However, when he saw the naked look of fear in her eyes, he stayed where he was and slowly sank to the deck. She watched him intently as her coughing gradually slowed. Tom was shocked. Even at their most desperate, when it looked like Voyager would surely be destroyed and they would all die, he had never seen Kathryn Janeway scared. It was his fault; it was all his fault.

She was a physical mess. Her beautiful auburn hair was a tangled wreck, sticking out in all directions. Her left eye and cheek were red and starting to swell. Tom knew from his medic training that her eye would probably be swollen shut in less than half-an-hour. The whites of her eyes were completely bloodshot due to the trauma of having her head slammed repeatedly onto the deck. Hot tears were streaming out of her eyes; she wasn't blinking them away; she wasn't moving her gaze away from him. Her pale face was covered in dozens of burst capillaries caused by her near-strangulation and he could see the red marks on her neck where his hands had been. She was dressed in only her gray tank-top with pieces of her uniform trousers hanging off her in shreds. Ridiculously, her tall black boots were immaculate.

Cautiously, he whispered out to her, "Kathryn?"

Janeway stopped coughing when he said her name. Tom quickly realized she wasn't coughing because she wasn't breathing. She was holding her breath.

Tears started to flow down Tom's face and he hugged his knees to his chest, unconsciously mirroring the fragile woman across from him. "God... I don't understand what's happening. I-I-I almost... Oh, my God." He shook his head from side to side in deep anguish.

Kathryn studied him closely, watching for deception. She saw none; she only saw Tom Paris, her Tom Paris. Despite the trauma of the last few minutes, the raw emotion in his voice made her heart ache for him. Her fear of Tom turned instantly to anger for the aliens currently invading her ship. They were behind this; those damned aliens were controlling them again. This must be a punishment for trying to stop them. That's why the attack had ended so abruptly. Those so-called scientists were in here with them, watching them, manipulating them, even now.

Directing her voice to the ceiling, Janeway called out in a raspy, raw voice, "Is this what you wanted? To show us who's in control. I'll show you who's in control of Voyager. This ends right now!" Looking over at Tom, Captain Janeway commanded, "Mr. Paris, get up! We're going to boot some aliens off our ship."

**\***/**

The turbo-lift doors had barely opened before Captain Janeway stormed onto the bridge followed meekly by Lt. Paris. Commander Tuvok started to rise from the command chair, ready to yield the position to his captain until he noticed her current physical state. She had obviously been attacked. The only clothing she wore was a ripped tank top. Her lower body was covered by what looked like a one of Neelix's kitchen aprons tied around her waist. Her feet were bare. As Voyager's Security Chief, Tuvok's logical mind and security training immediately cataloged her injuries and their potential origin.

_Severe tumefaction of left eye, left cheek, and lower lip – blunt-force trauma_

_Subconjunctival hemorrhages in the sclera of the eye - strangulation_

_Severe contusions encircling neck – strangulation_

_Excoriations of neck – self-inflicted defensive action occurring when attempting to loosen assailant's hold_

_Damaged state of dress – sexual assault_

Janeway strode purposefully to the navigation console and issued a terse order to the helmsman on watch. "You're relieved." Her voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper, but her command presence brokered no argument. The helmsman immediately vacated her seat.

Tuvok approached the helm. "Captain, what are you doing? You are injured; you should be in sickbay." His concern was evident, even for a Vulcan.

"I'm fine, Tuvok. I'm just running a little experiment of my own. Red Alert!" Straining her voice caused her to start coughing again. However, she did not hesitate to lay in a course directly between the binary pulsars they had so recently studied.

"Captain, one of the aliens has entered the bridge", Seven dutifully reported.

Janeway didn't take her eyes off the view screen. "Understood." 

Once Red Alert was activated, the bridge crew, including Tuvok, all reported to their stations except for Tom. He quietly retreated to stand next to Harry Kim at ops. Harry glanced over at his friend briefly. Tom knew there would be probing questions later. Right now, Harry had his hands full.

"We're less than a million kilometers from the pulsars. We must change course to avoid being caught in their gravity." Tuvok's steady voice normally offered much appreciated council. Right now, however, it was just irritating.

"No! Keep going." 

"This is a far more reckless course of action than I've come to expect from you, Captain."

"It certainly is", she replied as her sore lip curled into a slight smirk. Something felt off and she absentmindedly ran her tongue along her bottom row of teeth. "Damn", she muttered as she turned her head to the side and spit out a tooth onto the deck of the bridge.

"Hull stresses at thirty teradynes and rising.", Tuvok emotionlessly reported.

Harry was busy at his station and he reported immediately, "I'm transferring more power to the structural integrity field, but I don't know how long it can hold."

An alien materialized in the middle of the bridge and addressed the Captain, "What do you hope to accomplish by this?" She looked remarkably similar to the one locked in the brig, tall, pale, and androgynous.

Janeway kept her attention trained on her instruments and the view screen. "Flying into a binary pulsar? It seems like I'm trying to crush this ship like a tin can."

"It's more likely that you're trying to intimidate us." The alien's voice was as calm as a Vulcan's.

"You're welcome to stick around and find out."

Tuvok continued to report the status of the ship as the alien rushed to the helm and tried to alter the course. The console didn't respond to her. The Captain still refused to look at the intruder and instead informed her, "Our course is locked in. Only my authorization can release it."

"You're not behaving very rationally." Her words was calm, but the alien's voice was starting to show some strain.

"What did you expect? You've manipulated my crew for far too long. But what you did today, you stepped over the line. This isn't about what you've done to me, but you caused a wonderful, sweet man to almost do something that is unforgivable."

"We also caused him to stop, Captain. We could have let him rape you, but we didn't. See? We can show compassion." The alien looked at Tom, still standing next to Harry's station, while touching the small device on her belt. "We can also show cruelty."

Tom grabbed his head and cried out in pain. It was the sound of soul-wrenching agony that brought Kathryn up short. She turned in her chair and saw Tom sink to the deck and curl into a fetal position.

"What are you doing?", Janeway screamed at the alien.

"Enter the authorization code and change course immediately!"

Janeway was torn between saving her ship and saving her... what was he to her? Chakotay had once called him her personal reclamation project, but that had been at the beginning of this mission. She had seen him grow by his own accord into a responsible young man and one of her most trusted officers. Who are you trying to fool, Kathryn? He's much more than a trusted officer. You've been attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him in New Zealand. It just took an alien probe into your brain to ramp up your hormones and spur you to act on that attraction.

As much as she hated to say it, she couldn't put one person, even Tom, above the safety of the entire ship. "I don't think you realize that you are not in control here anymore."

"I can kill him in an instant!" Another twist on her dial and Tom's screams increased three-fold. 

Janeway turned back to the view screen so the alien couldn't see the tears streaming down her face. This was one of the hardest decisions she had ever made. "Go ahead. Kill the entire crew, but without us, you won't be able to prevent this ship from being torn apart by the pulsars, and even with my crew working together, I'd say the odds of us getting through this are, what, one in ten?"

Tuvok answered her question, "One in twenty at best, Captain."

Janeway directed her next question at the alien, but still without looking at her. "I'm willing to take that chance. Are you?"

The alien scientist looked nervously about the bridge, fumbled with her belt device and disappeared. Tom immediately stopped screaming and fell unconscious, just as the Doctor entered the bridge. However, the crisis wasn't over yet.

"Outer hull temperature has reached nine thousand degrees", Tuvok stoically reported.

Kim ran back to his station after the EMH took over looking after Paris. "The hull is beginning to buckle."

Seven reported from the tactical station. "Two alien vessels are attempting to disengage from Voyager."

Janeway longed to join the EMH and make sure Tom was going to be okay, but she couldn't leave the helm unattended. "I can't break us free of the gravitational forces!"

Kim shouted back his suggestion. "Then let's divert all power to the shields!"

"No. If we go in, we go in full throttle." The ship shook violently and her head pounded to a new level of agony.

"Captain?" Harry couldn't have heard her correctly.

"Assuming we survive we'll need all the momentum we can get to reach escape velocity on the other side. Everyone hang on."

Amazingly, the ship made it between the pulsars with relatively little damage.

Harry Kim was amazed. "I don't believe it. We're alive."

Janeway hurried over to Tom and knelt down by the Doctor. "How is he, Doctor?" Her voice sounded harsh and her throat burned.

"I'll transport him to sickbay momentarily, but he should make a complete..." The Doctor glanced over at Captain Janeway, noticing first her bare thigh and then allowing his gaze to proceed up to her battered face. "Captain?", he asked with sincere concern.

She waved him off. "I must admit I've felt better, but I'm fine, Doctor. Just call it one of the alien's final experiments." Looking over at Tuvok, she asked, "I never realized you thought of me as reckless, Tuvok."

"A poor choice of words. It was clearly an understatement."

Janeway gave him one of her signature crooked smiles and rose to her feet, only to have the world fall out from under and go completely dark.

TBC

**Author's Notes:**

Hope someone is still reading this. I thought the last chapter was decent, but it only earned two reviews. Even if you don't like it, please leave a review and tell me why. How else can I improve...

Once again, I apologize for using so much actual dialogue from the episode.

Things I'd like to point out...

Once the attack starts, Tom becomes Paris or monster or attacker, but never Tom … until he's back to himself.

I hope the attack scene was exciting; that was my goal.

This is definitely the darkest chapter of the story, but that's where the muse dragged me.

Oh and the next one should be the last.

Please take the time to leave a review.

Thank you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Scientific Method Redux**

_**A Star Trek: Voyager fanfiction**_

**by**

**CanonAntithesis**

Summary: A Paris/Janeway rewrite of the 4th season episode, Scientific Method.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This fanfiction is based upon the UPN television series _Star Trek: Voyager_. All characters and situations other than my own are the sole property of Paramount.

**Chapter 7**

Kathryn awoke and immediately realized she was in sickbay, lying in a biobed, and wearing one of those horrible blue medical gowns … again. This _voyage_ was starting to get to her. She also realized … almost immediately, that she felt much better than she had earlier today. At least, she assumed it was the same day. She sat up and looked around. The room's lighting was lowered which meant it was ship's night. Almost every bed was occupied and everyone appeared to be sleeping soundly.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she surveyed the room, searching for one particular patient.

"I see you're awake", came the Doctor's voice from behind her. "How are you feeling?"

She jumped and pressed to her hand to her chest. "I was fine … until you nearly caused me to go into cardiac arrest", she bit back at him.

He ignored her and ran the small medical tricorder over the length of her body. He noted the reading on the device, but his comment wasn't about her current health.

"He's not here."

"What?", she snapped more harshly than necessary. He had noticed.

"I released Mr. Paris to his quarters two hours ago. I needed the space and … he was anxious to leave."

"Oh", she murmured, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. She had thought … _What, Kathryn? That he would wait for you?_ "So, he's completely recovered?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have released him otherwise. I healed his injuries and removed the genetic tags, as I did with you."

"What..."

"His injuries were fairly minor, considering. A broken nose, some abrasions. The final attack on the bridge against Mr. Paris didn't do any permanent damage."

She nodded. "Good, good."

"On the other hand, Captain, your injuries were much more severe."

She stared down at her hands while he enumerated every one of those injuries in minute detail. Janeway continued to stare at her hands while he waited for her to comment. She didn't.

"I would have thought with Starfleet's combat training, you would have made a better showing for yourself." The Doctor was obviously trying to bait her.

Janeway still made no comment, nor did she intend to. It was none of his business that she had purposefully offered only minimal defense against Tom during the attack. Truth be told, and it never would be, she hadn't wanted to hurt him. She had refrained from calling out for help, for fear of bringing others into their business. Initially, she had thought it was just rough sex and she would be able to handle things and then, by the time, she saw it was more, he had already gained the upper hand. In retrospect, it had been a stupid decision, but it had been hers to make. Hence, it was one which would not be shared with the Doctor or anyone else.

The Doctor was continuing his report. "I've removed the alien devices and neutralized the genetic tags from all the crewmembers we've discovered. Of course, I'll need to examine everyone to ensure no one was overlooked. I believe some of the experiments weren't as invasive as others and those crewmembers haven't stepped forward as of yet."

"I leave that in your capable hands, Doctor." She gingerly slipped off the bed and stood to face the EMH, frowning slightly when she was forced to look up into his face. It was difficult to be intimidating in sickbay flats. "If there's nothing further, I'll be in my quarters." In situations like these, it's best to present a strong front. She started with determination towards the door.

"Captain...", he called out immediately. "While your physical injuries are healed, your psychological trauma is something entirely different."

God, she just wanted to go home. "Psychological trauma, Doctor?", she said as she whirled around on him. "This entire ship has undergone _weeks_ of the worst kind of _psychological _trauma! Why single me out?"

He stepped closer and in a lower voice said, "I'm not singling you out. Two crewmembers experienced attempted sexual assault as a result of these experiments … by men they trusted. I am recommending counseling for both of you."

"_Attempted_, Doctor. It was attempted assault. That's the optimal word. _Nothing_ happened and I'm fine." She started for the door again. "I'll be in my quarters."

This time he didn't stop her.

**\***/**

Tom mechanically shoveled food into his mouth without really tasting it. He sat by himself in the mess hall at a small table in the back. Even though he was facing the huge open room, he paid no attention to the normal hustle and bustle of mealtime taking place around him. He didn't even notice his enthusiastic friend bouncing up to him, grinning like a schoolboy.

"Tom!" Harry Kim was suddenly in his face and taking the seat across from him. He was smiling from ear to ear. "I'm in love", he announced with boyish glee. "And I've got you to thank for it."

Tom studied him silently. Today, definitely, wasn't a day he wanted to hear about someone else's love life. "Harry, I'm really not..."

Completely oblivious to Tom's distress, Harry barreled on. "Aren't you going to ask me who she is?" A beat passed wherein Tom wouldn't have had time to respond even if he was so inclined. "Okay, I'll tell you." He leaned in closer and dropped his voice to a whisper even though there was no one near them. "Megan Delaney."

Tom lifted his brows in surprise, then briefly glanced over Harry's head to notice that the aforementioned Delaney twin had just entered the mess hall. She was standing close, very close, indeed, to Lt. Ayala from Security. Tom quickly focused his eyes back on Harry. This was very strange. He had been trying to hook Harry, and himself, for that matter, up with the Delaney sisters since this crazy mission began. Megan had never shown any interest in him at all.

"Really?", Tom asked in spite of himself. "And what did I have to do with this?"

Harry settled back in his seat and Tom dreaded that he was in for a long, drawn-out story of romance and courtship. This was Harry Kim, after all, the most upstanding Ensign in Starfleet.

"It was all because of your...", he leaned his head forward and paused, waiting for Tom to join him. Tom looked around to see if anyone was watching and reluctantly met him in the middle of the table, all the while ignoring how Megan was rubbing herself up against Ayala. "... black lace panties."

"What?" _Shit, in all that had happened the past few days, I completely forgotten about the Captain's... _ Harry was still talking.

"... by my quarters last night and she was … well … friendly, y'know? More friendly than normal, let's say. Your panties were lying on my desk; I was go-"

"They aren't my panties, Harry."

"Of course, not. I know that, but work with me here, okay? Anyhow... she picked them up, saw they were ripped, and... I don't know, but it was kind of a turn-on for her, I guess. She thought that I'd ripped them off... well, you get it."

Harry leaned back in his chair and reached into his pocket, pulling out something black. "Long story, short... you can have these back now." He pushed the wadded up lace into Tom's hands. "I've got a pair of my own now," he finished with a self-satisfied look on his face.

Tom stared mutely at the panties for two seconds before shoving them into his own pocket. He glanced over at Megan again and saw that she was now gnawing on the big security guard's ear lobe and rubbing her hand over his broad chest. Then, a thought occurred to him.

"Ummm, Harry? Has Megan been in to see the Doc?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Everyone is supposed to report in have any genetic tags removed."

"Okay... but there's nothing wrong with her." Then, he raised his eyebrows and added lasciviously, "Trust me on that one." Looking down at his untouched meal, Harry started to rise. "Damn, I'm late. I've got bridge duty..."

Tom reached over and grabbed his friend's arm. "Hang on a minute. I need to talk to you about some..." Behind Harry, Megan led an enthusiastic Ayala out the door.

Harry stared at him in mild annoyance. "Some _what_, Tom?"

The mess hall door swished shut and Tom drew his eyes back to Harry's. "Some what, _what_?"

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh, nothing." Tom glanced down at his chronometer. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be on the bridge?"

A confused Harry Kim left Tom alone.

_Poor Harry. If it wasn't for bad luck, he'd have no luck at all … at least as far as women were concerned._

Tom made a note to himself to make sure that the Doc had Megan Delaney come in to remove that genetic tag which was obviously still functioning.

Yesterday, after the Doctor had healed his injuries, he spoke to him briefly about the incident with the Captain. The Doctor had been very understanding and explained that a Lieutenant from Engineering had attacked a female Ensign in a similar fashion. No charges would be brought against either man. The Captain had learned from the alien scientist that all the couples in question had been part of the same experiment. A third human male had turned himself in to Commander Tuvok stating that he thought he was a danger to any females aboard. As the experiment involved three males and two females, that left one human female unaccounted for. At least, until now.

Tom had politely listened to the Doctor tell him how it was all alien control and he wasn't responsible for almost... He couldn't bring himself to think it, let alone say it. And he didn't believe a word the Doc had said. He quickly rose and walked to the recycler, dumping his tray and stealthily adding the Captain's undergarment. Tom left the mess hall and reported to sick bay for his shift.

**\***/**

Kathryn stared at the back of the helmsman's head without really seeing him. What was the point? He wasn't Tom. In fact, she didn't even know this man's name and she couldn't bring herself to care. She hadn't seen Tom in five days. Mysteriously, the duty roster didn't have them scheduled to work together for the foreseeable future. She wondered if Chakotay had done it on purpose, but decided that wasn't his style. Her first officer had too much honor to do something so self serving.

Enough of this.

Janeway stood up and faced at the young-again Chakotay. He looked on at her with interest. Other than issuing terse orders and clipped observations, she hadn't actually spoken to him or anyone else for the entire shift. She sighed. She didn't know how much longer this could go on.

"Commander, you have the bridge; I'll be in my ready room."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

She retreated to her sanctuary and immediately ordered up a cup of black coffee from the replicator, only to find that her replicator rations were depleted. She had forgotten.

_The water shower in Tom's quarters ... That very long real water shower ... The one I had insisted on paying for_

Sighing, she walked empty-handed to her desk, only to have her quiet interrupted by Tuvok requesting admittance a few minutes later. He stoically presented her with a PADD and waited silently while she read it over.

"Get him up here right now!" She held the PADD in her hand, so tightly that Tuvok could see the indentations the tips of her nails were making on the padded back of the device.

"Of course, Captain." Tuvok turned to leave.

"Tuvok, wait!" She rose from her seat. "I've changed my mind; I'm going to him."

He inclined his head slightly and allowed her to pass him. "Captain, might I point out that less than one week ago, you approached me with an equally unreasonable request?"

She didn't need to be reminded that she had submitted herself for a potential court martial offense for assaulting Tom before they understood what was causing their aberrant behavior.

With no expression on her face, she replied with a curt shake of her head, "No. You may not." She left the room at a determined clip.

**\***/**

Tom was working on a new holodeck program, but he wasn't able to focus on it long enough to make any headway. He just seemed to be editing and reediting the same code over and over again.

Without warning, his door swished open to reveal Kathryn Janeway stilling clutching the offending PADD. _Damn, she's still opening my door without permission._

She looked a little rattled by the opening door, but recovered quickly and stormed into his quarters.

"What's the meaning of this?" Janeway threw the PADD onto the desk where Tom was sitting.

He bristled at her tone and his voice showed it. "I think it speaks for itself." He rose from his seat and Janeway took an unconscious step back. "And you have no right to just barge into my quarters."

"What are you talking about? The door opened automatically. I assumed you were waiting for me."

He had forgotten. "Oh. Sorry, you're right. It was me, not you." She raised her brow, encouraging him to continue. Tom looked chagrined. "I, um, set the door to open for you. You know, just in case, you needed me … for anything. I'd forgotten to reset it after the aliens left."

"Oh", she acknowledged with a slight lift of her chin. Her voice softened. "That was considerate."

They were silent for a moment, both of them wrapped up in the memories of this past week. She took a calming breath and started pacing in a short ellipse in front of the desk.

"I've been rethinking some of Voyager's personnel protocols."

Tom's brows shot up. This wasn't the conversation he had been expecting from her.

She continued. "Even though we've made great strides toward home, let's face facts. It's still a lifetime away."

"It's not fair of Starfleet to expect you to spend your life alone", he interjected, hoping to encourage her train of thought.

"I agree." She exhaled slowly, as if acknowledging this was a huge relief off her shoulders.

"However, fraternization is discouraged within the same chain of command."

He interrupted again; he couldn't help it. "But you're the captain; everyone is in your chain-of-command."

Another exhalation, but one which didn't bring any relief. "Yes. That's why I've decided to follow Tuvok's advice and approach this situation on a case by case basis."

"Starting with your own?", he hedged as a huge grin appeared.

A small smile flitted across her face. "Yes. Starting with my own."

Then, Janeway's eyes grew determined as her command mask slipped into place. She regarded the PADD which now lay among the debris on Tom's desk. "You can't resign", she announced.

Tom's smile disintegrated. He had actually forgotten what this was all about, why she was here in the first place … and what prompted his request.

"Why not?" He took a deliberate step in her direction and as he expected … and dreaded, she moved to place the desk between the two of them. She tried to make at a casual gesture, but it wasn't; it was deliberate.

"Because you didn't do anything wrong, that's why? This ship can't afford to lose her best pilot." She took another breath.

"And _I_ can't afford to lose _you_."

A deep sadness came over Paris. "But Kathryn... you're still afraid of me. Despite everything we discussed about protocols and a possible future together, and believe me I do want that, but you're still afraid of me. If I haven't done anything wrong, why are you so afraid of me?"

"No, I'm not", she snapped.

"Yes, you are. You're nervous around me. You weren't like this before I … before." He let the sentence trail off.

"No, I'm not", she repeated more forcefully.

"Yes, you are. You've moved away from me twice since you entered this room."

He could tell the instant she realized he was right. Her beautiful pale skin flushed scarlet, but it was in embarrassment, not arousal.

"You're right", she admitted. "... and I'm sorry." She looked nervously down at her hands, her preferred line-of-sight when she wanted to avoid a conversation.

"You shouldn't be. A horrible thing happened to you."

She looked up into his eyes. "No, Tom. A horrible thing happened to both of us."

"What do we do about it?"

**\***/**

Captain Janeway stood nervously outside Holodeck 2. She looked up and down the corridor to ensure she was alone. Then she mentally chastised herself for being so foolish. Straightening her jacket for the fifth time, she punched in the access code and large metal doors slid open.

She entered a charming and comfortable sitting room which looked out onto a beautiful English garden. Kathryn inhaled and was amazed to immediately recognize the scent of roses drifting in through the large open windows. As a scientist, she appreciated the time and skill it took to create such a setting. As a woman, she appreciated how thoughtful Tom was for making this setting just for her.

The furnishings in the room reminded her immediately of her grandmother's house in Indiana. There were two comfortable looking overstuffed armchairs facing the stone hearth, making it the focal point of the room. A small table sat between the chairs and Kathryn simply loved the symmetry of the arrangement. She could just imagine sitting in one of those chairs and reading one of her favorite books with a quiet fire crackling in the background. This thought led her to the built-in walnut bookcases on the far side of the room. She hesitated with her hand on Great Expectations. She could feel the texture of the leather binding; she could smell, what she was sure would be, old yellowing pages inside the novel. Then, she stopped and pushed the book back into place. It was better not to spoil the illusion. No one, not even Tom Paris would have programmed an entire book into a holoprogram.

And speaking of Tom Paris... sitting anachronistically in the corner of the room was an odd rectangular box supported by four spindly wooden legs. The box had what looked like a window in the center of it. A month ago, Kathryn would not have known what it was, but getting to know Tom Paris was definitely an education in the eclectic. Therefore, Kathryn knew that the box had a name and a purpose. It was called a television and its purpose was, according to Tom, to entertain. She guessed he couldn't resist leaving his mark in this special room.

Looking back toward the fireplace, she noticed for the first time the faded oriental rug under the chairs. It looked just like the one in her grandmother's living room, down to the frayed fringe along its perimeter. This more than anything else in the room attested to the fact that Tom had actually been listening to her. For the past two weeks, they had talked-, talked about everything from their favorite foods to their biggest fears. And yes, they had talked about _that_ fear too. In fact, _that _fear was what finally brought her here today.

She heard a soft knock on the door and Kathryn turned around expectantly. A small, exotically beautiful woman with long black hair strode confidently into the room. She held out her hand in greeting.

"Captain Janeway, how nice to meet you. I'm Counselor Troi, but please call me Deanna."

**The End**

**Author's Notes:**

Wow, that's it. Hope you liked it.

I had completely forgotten about those darn panties that Harry jacked. However, I think I worked them back in in a believable manner and if you choose to think this was my plan all along, then so be it. Oh, and hasn't everyone always wanted to quote HeeHaw in a Star Trek fanfic. _If it wern't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all, gloom, despair and agony on me._

Star Trek was always one for glossing over serious problems and getting them all back on track for the next episode. For instance, in the episode this fic butchers, it ended with a cute little romantic look at Paris/Torres trying to have a quiet meal together while continually being interrupted. No mention was made of their fellow crewman who dropped dead smack in the middle of bridge just a day or so before. Dying in, what was unarguably, a very painful manner.

In the previous chapter, I took the story down an unintentionally dark path. This chapter attempts to present a more realistic outcome springing from that horrendous attack while at the same time, leaving us with a hopeful future where they really can live happily ever after.


End file.
